


Somebody That I Used To Know

by siobhane



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Completed, Death Threats, F/M, GF induced memory loss, Grief/Mourning, Harassment, Infidelity, More angst, Murder, Romance, Suspense, disgustingly rich people, lots and lots of angst, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-05-25 14:00:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 179,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6197812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siobhane/pseuds/siobhane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a business to run and a moody and heartbroken 9 year old niece to raise, Squall Leonhart doesn't have time to think about the past he's made himself forget.  When he encounters the beautiful wife of a wealthy client, he's sure they've met before, he just can't remember when, where, or who she was to him.  When an unknown killer forces him to defend those be loves, Squall must confront his past, present and maybe his future.</p><p>COMPLETED</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all quotes used will be attributed to the author or source at the end of the chapter where they appear.

 

 

The mansion sat on a Dolletian hillside above the sea. It was an imposing and massive structure constructed of weathered gray stone, the walls covered in creeping ivy. Gothic stained glass windows and doors gave it a slightly ominous and haunted look, but there was no denying it was beautiful. The grounds were meticulously kept, and the scent of roses and jasmine wafted over and above the tang of fresh cut grass and chlorinated water from a nearby fountain.

Squall Leonhart eyed the towers and peaked roofs and the exquisitely manicured landscaping with mild interest as he peered through the iron gate that barred his way onto the property. Photos of the Delacroix Estate had been sent over to his office when he took the job, and he knew the details, but he hadn't been prepared for how massive the estate truly was. He was awed and a little disgusted by the opulence

How did one live in a place like this?

The mechanical whine of something above turned his attention from the palatial home and he glanced up as a small camera panned over him. He hitched up his bag of equipment over his shoulder and pressed the button on the panel next to him.

“ _State your business._ ”

“L & A Security Service,” he said. “I'm here to see Gary Ballas, per Mr. Delacroix's request.”

“ _Your name?_ ”

“Leo Loire.”

Squall had used an alias professionally for the last few years to distance himself from his past. It saved him the trouble of answering questions about why he was no longer commander of Balamb Garden, what the war was like or how many people he'd killed. It gave him a certain amount of anonymity and kept the star-struck admirers and reporters at bay. Not that it was so much a problem these days, but there was still some curiosity about his whereabouts and activities, and Squall just wanted to be left alone.

Most of the time, it worked, so long as no one recognized him. These days, no one did. A half inch of stubble and shoulder length, sun streaked hair made him look much more like his father than he ever had. The only thing he couldn't hide was the scar, but when people asked about it, and most didn't, he lied and said it was from an accident when he was a kid.

The gate opened with a painful moan, the hinges protesting his entry loudly. Squall could already tell this was going to be a big, time-consuming job. He'd been told the place needed an upgrade, but from the looks of it, it needed an complete overhaul. That was not a problem. Delacroix was prepared to spend whatever was needed to get with the times, and that meant a big paycheck for Squall.

A man in his sixties met Squall on the sidewalk and offered his hand and a cheerful smile. His uniform telegraphed his position in bold yellow letters before introductions were made:  _Security._

“Gary Ballas,” the man said. “Head of security. Nice to meetcha.”

“Good to meet you,” Squall said. He declined to shake the man's hand with a polite nod. “Will Mr. Delacroix be joining us?”

“Naw, he's in Esthar. Won't be back until tonight,” Gary said. “I'll be able to answer any questions you have. The Mister doesn't know much about the system, the Missus knows even less.”

“She's home?” Squall asked.

“She's around here somewhere,” Gary said, “putting the finishing touches on tonight's shindig, so it's best we leave her to her work.”

“Understood,” Squall said. “Mind if we start with the control room?”

* * *

 

Rinoa Delacroix watched the handsome, young pool boy on the deck below from her expansive bedroom balcony. She shouldn't loiter like this, but she couldn't help herself. He was handsome, lean and toned, and she had half a mind to put on her skimpiest bathing suit and go stretch out on a deck chair so she could get a closer look. That was all she wanted. A look.

It wasn't worth the effort, and she didn't have the time to sun herself. She had things to do, but she couldn't find it in herself to tear her eyes away from the ripple of hard muscle under the young man's back as he pushed a wide brush along the bottom of the pool.

When she married Florian Delacroix, Rinoa had known what she was getting herself into. Their marriage wasn't exactly loveless, and she had a deep affection and respect for her husband and he for her, but they hadn't married for love but for the benefits they offered each other. His connections had helped her free Timber and raise money for charities, and her family name, pretty face and witty conversation made him look less broken than he was.

If their relationship wasn't loveless, it was most certainly sexless.

It had been a long, long time since anyone had touched her that way, and she craved physical affection the way an alcoholic craves the next drink. Florian was unable make love to her, and though he was kind and their affection for one another genuine, it left her deeply dissatisfied to not enjoy all the benefits of a real marriage. Their relationship was all affection, no passion and Rinoa thought she could live with that, but as the years went by, it got harder and harder to not wish for more.

Which was why her eyes were drawn to to the handsome pool boy in all his half-naked glory. Not that she intended to jump him. Or do anything more than stare.

She turned from the view as her personal maid, Marilee entered the room and held up two gowns for her to choose from. One was black and slinky, the other pale blue beaded with a full ballroom skirt.

“The black,” Rinoa said, without thinking about it.

“Yes, Ms Noni,” Marilee said. “Which shoes?”

“The strappy satin ones, I think,” Rinoa said. “Donate the blue dress, please. Actually, donate everything that color.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Pale blue was the color of her youth, something she was trying to leave behind. It was bad enough all the wives of her husbands associates feared her because she was a Sorceress. She didn't want to give them another reason rehash her days as a teenage terrorist or her lengthy involvement with SeeD. It had already been a heavily discussed topic behind her back, and she was doing everything she could to distance herself from it.

“The caterers are also here,” Marilee said. “Would you like them to start setting up?”

“Yes, please,” Rinoa said. “Make sure they know there should be a separate buffet set up for the staff as well. And the leftovers are to be donated to the Decatur St. homeless shelter.”

“Yes, Ms. Noni.”

“And make sure your daughter gets a plate, too, Marilee,” Rinoa said. “I wouldn't want her to miss out on that cherry cheesecake she loves so much.”

Marilee smiled and nodded at her employer. “Thank you Ms. Noni.”

Rinoa could not get anyone on staff except Gary to stop being so damned formal. She was no tyrant and treated everyone with equal respect, but they all acted as though she was some kind of queen they needed to kowtow to. She preferred a more relaxed environment but they were determined to maintain the lines of class distinction in a way Rinoa found maddening.

Worse, they'd all adopted Florian's pet name for her, and she _hated_ it. It became such a thing, even Florian's associates now called her Noni and she'd given up on correcting them.

A silly pet name was a small price to pay for what Florian had done for her. As grating as it was, it was a petty thing to be angry about. Let them call her what they wanted.

A glance at the clock told her she'd wasted far too much time staring at the pretty young thing cleaning the pool. She headed downstairs to check that the table arrangements were done and everything would be ready when her guests arrived. Her hairdresser would be the shortly, which meant she would have to start getting ready herself if she didn't want to be late to her own party.

The florist had delivered the wrong centerpieces, but Rinoa didn't bother to get upset about it. Some of the ladies in her social circle would see botched centerpieces as a black mark on their ability to host an event, but it was the least of Rinoa's concerns. No one would notice the difference, and it wasn't worth having a tantrum over. Decorations were not the point. The money the event would raise was far more important than whether or not the arrangements contained baby's breath and hydrangea instead of tiger-lily and hyssop.

Centerpieces aside, the ballroom was ready and she double checked the seating arrangement to ensure certain people hadn't been placed at the wrong table. In Rinoa's opinion, you sat where you sat, but in this world, who you associated with was everything. And seating was taken as seriously as the menu choices and often used as a weapon or to subversively put someone in their place.  It was the equivalent of placing a teenager at the kid's table, but worse.

She checked in with the caterers to make sure they understood her directions for the leftover food. The last time she'd hosted, they'd discarded everything at the end of the night, after she'd promised the extras to the Decatur St. Homeless Shelter. It was important that nothing go to waste. It didn't matter if she could afford to throw it away, it was ridiculous to discard so much food when so many people were hungry. And there were a _lot_ of people in need.

She issued a few more orders to the housekeeping staff, made sure the ballroom passed muster one last time and returned to her room to stare at the pool boy until her hairdresser arrived.

 

* * *

 

Gary gave Squall a tour of the house, from the control room to the maintenance shed and everything in between. Squall was mildly sickened by the display of wealth around him. The Gothic mansion was beautiful, but the decadence was unnecessary. The house had 15 bedrooms, a ballroom, which was currently decked out in fancy decorations, a massive restaurant sized kitchen, a formal dining room with a table that seated 30, an old fashioned game room, two formal living rooms, a huge and well maintained pool with a guest house that overlooked the ocean, tennis courts, and a library big enough to belong in a university.

A house like this was passed down through generations, belongings and items of value amassed over time – antiques and heirlooms a testament of old money and familial renown. New money was looked down upon; those that started with nothing and built a name and an empire of their own were tasteless and vulgar, just by virtue of being self-made. Old money families were snobbish in their associations, proud of their antiques and turned their noses up at people like Squall's father. Even if Laguna was a President and invited to all the parties, they all knew he'd begun his life as the son of a chocobo farmer in Galbadia, born dirt poor with barely two Gil to rub together.

The stamp of the Estate's inhabitants personalities should have left a mark. There should have been some hint of the people that lived there, but all Squall saw was a showcase for power and generations up on generations of wealth. Delacroix liked beautiful things and his home was a well preserved museum of paintings and sculptures and rare Centran pottery, fine Trabian carpets in muted shades, and turn of the century hand-built Galbadian furniture. It was stunning, but also sickening.

The estate needed a total overhaul of its security system and that was good news for Squall. The cameras were at least twenty years old, and the feed from them was dark and grainy. They only covered 30% of the property, and the one on the back side of the house wasn't even wired into the system. The alarm was only set up on every other window, and some of the contacts were weathered and only semi-functional. It was a big job, but Delacroix was willing to pay whatever to get the latest updates and equipment.

As they returned to the control room, Squall ran Gary through his assessment of the work, but the man waved him off.

“Whatever needs to be done, Mr. Loire,” he said. “The Mister said not to worry about how much it costs, just get us up to date.”

Gary plopped into a chair at the desk and gave the monitors a cursory glance. Grainy footage filled each screen and Squall had to look closely to tell which rooms were which. How did a man with everything neglect the safety of his property this way? The housekeeping staff could rob him blind and no one would ever know.

“How long you think it'll take?” Gary asked.

“Maybe two weeks,” Squall said. “And please, call me Leo.”

When the phone on the desk rang, Gary picked it up and turned his attention away from the monitor bank.

“What can I do for you Noni?” he asked. Gary rolled his eyes and nodded at the phone. “Of course. I'll be right up.”

He hung up and stood, hitching a thumb toward the door.

“The Missus wants her diamonds,” Gary said. A wry smile twisted his lips and his eyes glittered with mischief. “Come on. I'll show you the safe. That's the only secure thing in this house.”

Squall followed him back to the library where Gary moved a cleverly hidden latch and rolled away one of the bookshelves. Behind it was a small alcove protected by a laser system. Beyond the alcove, a floor to ceiling door with a numeric key pad. The lasers were deactivated by thumb print, and Squall turned his face away as Gary punched in the code to open the safe.

The safe interior was the size of Squall's living room and housed a strange assortment of things. There were vases and paintings and various other artifacts, no doubt all valuable and rare. At the back was another smaller safe that opened to reveal a cluster of velvet boxes, a handful of firearms and some documents. Gary selected one of the boxes, closed the safe and turned to Squall.

“Impressive set-up,” Squall said.

“Can't be too careful with the real valuables,” Gary said. “Check this out.”

Gary opened the box to reveal an exquisite necklace of platinum set with dozens of tear drop shaped diamonds and a pair matching earrings. Squall estimated there were two-dozen or more karats of flawless and beautifully cut diamonds.

Who the hell could afford something like that? The earrings alone were worth more than everything he owned, business included.

“Wedding gift from the Mister to the Missus,” Gary said with pride. “Shiny, isn't it?”

“That's one hell of a wedding gift,” Squall remarked.

Gary closed up the safe and Squall took a look around the library again. It was the only room he'd seen so far that was lived in. On one lounge was a well-loved knit blanket and a romance novel was opened face down on the seat to mark the reader's place. On the desk was a a computer, a printer and stacks of disorganized papers, a mug with a chocobo on it full of colored pens and pencils, and a framed wedding photo that showed a wheelchair bound man in a tux with a beautiful, dark-haired woman in his lap.

There was something familiar about the woman, but Squall couldn't recall a name or a time when they'd met. It wasn't unusual for Squall to forget people from his past. His years with SeeD and his extensive use of Guardian Forces had robbed him of too many memories to count. If she was someone important, he couldn't recall. Most likely, she was someone he'd met in passing through his father. Delacroix and Laguna ran in overlapping social circles, and Squall had been invited to plenty of Laguna's gatherings over the years. In that time, he'd met dozens of his father's associates, and there were too many to remember them all by name.

“Let's get these to Noni and then I'll get you set up with some access codes so you can get started.”

Upstairs in the family wing, Gary knocked on a door at the end of the hall. A pretty young housekeeper answered and ushered them into a room that was tastefully decorated in shades of cream and chocolate. The dark wood furniture was old and ornate, probably hand carved, turn-of-the-century antiques. Photographs lined the mantle of a grand stone fireplace, along with a handful of incongruous, inexpensive trinkets that were out of place among the opulent décor.

A dark haired woman sat at the vanity in a plush robe with a sea of make up spread out before her. Even in profile, she was beautiful. _Familiar._ Not because he'd just seen her photo downstairs, either.

“Hi Gary,” she said pleasantly. She lifted some tool Squall couldn't identify to her eyelashes without a glance in their direction. “Who's your friend?”

“This is Mr. Leo Loire,” Gary said. “He's here to upgrade our security system.”

“Loire?” she asked, not looking away from the mirror. “Any relation to Laguna?”

“Distantly,” Squall lied.

“He's such a nice man,” she said wistfully. “I used to know him pretty well, though our paths haven't crossed much lately. Marilee, remind me to invite him to the next event. I'd love to see him again.”

“Yes, ma'am,” the maid said. “I'll put it in your planner.”

Squall almost rolled his eyes but refrained out of professionalism. His father _was_ nice, but he was also flighty and scatterbrained. Here today, gone tomorrow, the man lost track of time and people far too easily for a man responsible for the welfare of an entire nation.

She set the strange tool down on the vanity and faced them, curious as her eyes traveled over him. He shifted, uncomfortable under the weight of her silent scrutiny.

“Everyone calls me Noni,” she said as she offered her hand. “But I prefer Rinoa, or Rin. But you can call me what you like, just please, no Mrs. Delacroix or Ma'am, or anything like that.”

Rinoa. Squall had known a Rinoa once, hadn't he? A long time ago, but his memory of the girl he'd known was a blank, empty hole. All that remained was a brief flicker of a star-filled sky and a kind of contentment he hadn't known in a long, long time.

As a rule, Squall didn't shake hands with strangers, but he was compelled to reach out to her by a force he didn't understand. The brief contact rattled him, and there was a momentary tug of loss in his chest. A longing he couldn't explain.

“Leo,” he said as her hand slipped into his. “Nice to meet you.”

Her expression changed from curiosity to recognition as she met his eyes. Her head cocked to the side, eyes squinted at the corners and she took him in as if she found him suspect.

“Do we know each other?” she asked. “You look really familiar.”

Squall shrugged. “People tell me I look like Laguna...”

That was only half true. From the handful of photos he'd seen, Squall was very much his mother's son. Those that had never met Raine Leonhart saw only the handful of traits he'd inherited from Laguna, which were few. His height and build were similar, and now that he wore his hair long, he heard it more often than he used to.

“That must be it,” she said but it was clear she was unconvinced.

She stared the scar on his forehead and bit her lip, eyes wide with what could only be surprise. He'd been identified. This was a common reaction when people figured out who he really was, and it was usually followed by gushing praise or a sudden shyness.

She did neither. She just stared as a hand came up to her throat to clasp something that wasn't there. The motion triggered a memory that was there and then gone in an instant, leaving behind only an image of ruined pillars and a dreary, overcast sky.

They stared at one another in silence for nearly a minute. Squall couldn't tear his eyes away, drawn into the warmth in her eyes in a way he could not remember being drawn in by a woman before. She was his type physically, but that didn't account for the conflicted emotion in his chest as he stared back. Her lips curved into a hesitant smile and Squall's throat closed tight, choked-up for no reason at all.

Gary's eyes darted back and forth between them and held out the jewelry box for Rinoa to take. It was enough to break the inexplicable tension and she turned to the older man with a grateful smile.

Something dark and sad flickered in her face as she opened the box and ran a finger over the largest of the gems. With a sigh, she closed the box and set it aside, then turned on a warm, friendly smile.

“Leo, why don't you stick around for the party tonight?” she asked. “Free food and drinks.”

He had no interest in rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful. He had found the company they kept was pretentious and elitist. Every event was essentially a dick measuring contest of big watches and expensive jewels and designer apparel that Squall would never be able to afford. He was a working man that would never fit into that world, and he didn't want to.

“Thank you, but I have a 9-year-old I need to get home to,” he said.

Her brows raised and there was more surprise in her expression than was due. That was followed by hurt and something Squall could only label as jealousy. She changed emotions faster than Zell ate hot dogs, and she was not good at hiding them.

“You have children?”

“My niece,” he said. “My sister passed away and I wound up with custody.”

“Oh, that's so sad. I'm sorry,” she said, genuine in her sympathy. “I could send a car for her. I'm sure we could rustle up a dress for her to wear.”

“That's kind of you, but I really should be going. Perhaps another time.”

“Of course,” she said. “Please feel free to raid the buffet before you go. There's more than enough, and the cheesecake is wonderful. Take a few slices with you.”

“Thank you. I'll do that,” he said to be polite.

The hopeful way she looked at him was disconcerting and he wanted to get out of there as fast as he could. She was beautiful, but the longer he was in her presence, the greater his instinct to run.

“ _I'm not wanted here.”_

“ _Damn it, yes you are. I want you here.”_

These words cut across him like a blade to the gut, a knife to the heart, and then it was gone. Like every memory from his days with SeeD, it was shrouded in fog and confusion and then gone for good. Just a snapshot of a moment with no context, like so many others he could not recall. The words meant something, but nothing at all.

When he met her eyes, her gaze was watchful and calculating.

“The forests of Timber sure have changed,” she said.

Familiar words spoken aloud, yet they meant no more than the ones he'd imagined. Maybe she was just a bored, rich woman who liked to play games and say cryptic things to get a reaction. Was it code for something? A greeting? A secret password for an elite club? Was there any significance to this, or was it just another glitch, a sign he was about to fall head-first into insanity again?

It made no sense. The forests of Timber had burned long ago. There were no forests left, unless they counted the tree farms started a few years ago by some savvy business-man from Galbadia. No forest, just a sea of saplings that would take years to mature. There was nothing there. Not in memory, and not in reality.

Her face fell when she didn't get the response she expected and he said a hasty goodbye as he followed Gary from the room.

It wasn't until an hour later, stopped at a red light and half way home that the response to her statement came to him.

“But the owls are still around,” he said to the steering wheel. He blinked a few times and shook his head. “What the hell does that mean?”

A train. A dark haired girl in sky blue.

“ _MEANIE!”_

A risky, stupid mission that involved climbing all over a moving train and the attempted abduction a president. Seifer. Edea.

Prison.

Why was he remembering this? Was it his first or second mission? It had been so long ago, the memory of it was gone. Unlike Selphie, Squall never bothered to keep track of things he was supposed to remember. The past was best left in the past. There was little worth remembering before the last few years. Only struggle and war and loss. That was all that there was, and if the GF's took those memories from him, he didn't miss them.

As he pulled into his driveway and shut the engine off, the phrases rattled around inside his head. Without context, it had no significance. Maybe it meant nothing at all, but he couldn't shake the impression that it was even more profound than it seemed.

Loud music blared from inside his rented town house as he unlocked the front door and stepped into the foyer. He dropped his bag on the floor and found his niece Lily laying on the couch with her feet propped up on the arm rest. She stared at the ceiling with her arms crossed over her chest, a dark scowl on her pretty face.

Squall went to the stereo and turned it off. His scowl mirrored hers as he looked down at her sullen expression. Books and papers littered the floor, and her sketchbook was open, pencil shavings all over a blank sheet of paper.

“I hate this place,” she said to the ceiling.

“We haven't been here long enough to hate it, Lil,” Squall said. “Give it a chance.”

“Whatever,” she said.

“Did something happen at school?”

She shrugged and continued to glare at the ceiling. For a nine year old, she was as surly as a teenager already, and very, _very_ angry. Time had not healed the loss of her mother, nor the way Laguna had all but dumped her in his lap claiming he knew nothing about raising kids and that she'd be better off with Squall. As if Squall knew any more than Laguna did about child rearing. Squall was way out of his comfort zone, but he loved Lily and refused to be the next person to leave her. He knew what that was like, even if he couldn't remember it.

He sighed and turned the music back on at a much lower volume and left the room to forage for something to eat. As he opened the refrigerator door, the volume went back up and he popped his head out of the kitchen.

“Volume!” he shouted over the noise.

With a huff, Lilly got up and turned it off. Squall returned to the living room and peered at he sullen girl on the couch.

“The neighbors already complained about it once,” Squall said. “If you want to destroy your ear drums, use the headphones I got you.”

“Fine,” she said and flopped back down on the couch to stare at the ceiling some more.

“What do you want for dinner?” he asked.

“I don't care.”

“I was thinking take-out,” he said. “Pizza or maybe that Centran place around the corner?”

“Centran's too spicy,” she said. “I had pizza for lunch.”

He hated it when she was like this. She loved Centran food, the spicier the better, and she would eat pizza every day if Squall let her. She was being contrary for the sake of being contrary, but as usual, he didn't know why.

“You do your homework?”

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

“...yes.”

“Lily.”

“...no.”

“Get up and get it done,” he said.

When he'd agreed to take Lily in, she'd been a sweet but broken-hearted kid who had just lost her mother. In the last few months, she'd evolved into a depressed and angry kid, and Squall didn't know what to do about it. He knew nothing about being a parent, and he knew nothing about girls. He wondered if they were all this moody or if Lily was going through something that wasn't normal. Half the time, her attitude bordered on intolerable, and the other half, she was just sad.

He put in an order for pizza delivery and jumped in the shower. He tried not to think about how shaken his encounter with Mrs. Delacroix had left him, but it lingered. There was some connection between them, some history that eluded him. Though he'd found her exceptionally attractive, it wasn't as simple as all that.

Perhaps he was just lonely and had read more into a rich woman's game than there was. Perhaps it was code for something he'd only heard in passing and didn't understand.

But he _was_ lonely. It was a fact. He had no patience or interest in dating, nor did he have time for it.

He could have had his pick of women if he wanted, but his inability to connect in the past had driven every last one of them away. He'd been accused of being cold, heartless and uninterested and incapable of being in a relationship.

The last part was true. He didn't have it in him to maintain one, and his former shrink constantly tried to get him to talk about his overwhelming fear of intimacy. Squall preferred to talk about other things, like the frequent nightmares that used wake him with a scream on his lips, always of events he couldn't remember when he was awake. And when the shrink pushed the issue, Squall talked about his crippling fear of chocobos instead, which was mostly a misdirect he used when he wanted to change the subject.

“ _You're avoiding again.”_

“ _I'm not avoiding.”_

“ _You're a 31 year old man whose last significant relationship ended almost ten years ago. I think it's important to discuss this.”_

“ _I don't,” Squall said. “I'm raising my sister's kid and I work 70 hours a week. I don't have time for a relationship.”_

“ _That sounds like an excuse, Squall.”_

“ _It's not an excuse, it's reality.”_

Hyne, wasn't that the truth? But it wasn't the full truth. There was a part of him that longed to wake up next to someone he loved and trusted every day, but the very idea of it was also unbearable. They always left, so what was the point?

As he got out of the shower and dressed, there was a knock at the door.

“Lily! Can you get that?” he called. “Money's on the table!”

The knock came again and Squall yanked on a t-shirt and headed downstairs. In the living room, Lily was on the couch, headphones on and _not_ doing her homework. Squall paid for the pizza and dumped it on the counter in the kitchen. He ate at the counter, standing up as Lily ignored his occasional call to come join him. Eventually, he gave up and ate in silence. Lily could eat or not eat. He wasn't going to debate it with her.

His phone rang and he answered, expecting Seifer, who ran the Deling City office, but it was Lily's school, and the news was not good. Lily had gotten into a fight with another girl and had pushed the girl hard enough that she'd fallen and had broken her arm. Squall glared into the living room where Lily was now watching him with big, worried brown eyes.

“Given the situation, we have to suspend her, Mr. Leonhart.”

“I understand,” Squall said. “I'll talk to her.”

“If this behavior continues, we will have no choice but to expel her. We can't tolerate violence or bullying.”

“I get it,” he snapped. “I'll talk to her.”

He hung up the phone and reached into the cabinet for the bottle of vodka he kept stashed away. He did not usually indulge during the week, but between the strange encounter with Mrs. Delacroix and Lily's suspension, he needed to take the edge off. He uncapped the bottle and took a long swallow, then leaned his palms against the counter as the vodka burned on the way down.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered to himself.

“She hit me first,” Lily said coming into the kitchen. “I was defending myself.”

“Why would she hit you?”

“She picks on me. Her and her friends,” she said. “They made fun of me because I'm an orphan. And I told her to shut up and she hit me. So I pushed her. I didn't mean to break her arm, I just wanted them to leave me alone.”

“You're not an orphan,” Squall said. “You've got me and Laguna.”

“Ha! You're never around and Laguna doesn't know what to do with me.”

“I don't know what to do with you either, Lil,” he said. “But you can't get into fights at school. Now I'm going to have to figure out what to do with you until you can go back.”

“I'll just hang out here,” she said. “I can look after myself.”

“Nope,” he said. “Not happening.”

“Oh, come on! I'll clean the house and do the laundry and stuff.”

“No.”

“You suck so much!” she cried. “I _hate_ you.”

Tears rolled down her face and Squall reached out to his arms around her.

“What's really going on with you, Lil?” he asked.

“You wouldn't understand,” she said as she wrenched herself away from him.

Her feet pounded on the stairs, followed by loud footsteps in the upstairs hall. Her bedroom door slammed hard enough to rattle the dishes in the cabinet. Squall took another swallow of vodka and sat down at the table, head in hand.

He _really_ wasn't cut out for this.

 

* * *

 

Laguna arrived at Rinoa's event on the arm of an ancient and cantankerous but very generous and wealthy woman by the name of Emelda Fonatine. The two had been longtime friends, and he'd agreed to come as her escort because no one else could stand her. Rinoa greeted him warmly and accepted his fatherly hug that was too tight and too enthusiastic, just as it had always been. The embrace was welcome, but it stirred up memories she was better off forgetting.

“You know, I was just talking about how long it had been since I last saw you,” Rinoa said as she let him go.

“Serenity,” he cried.

“You mean serendipity?”

“Exactly,” he said. “I guess it was meant to be.”

“I suppose so,” she said. “I'm so glad to see you, Laguna. You look good.”

“And you are stunning as always,” he said.

They chatted for a while about Estharian politics, but eventually, the conversation turned more personal.

After she'd left Garden, she'd made a point to never ask Laguna about Squall for two reasons. One, she didn't want to know, and two, his relationship with Laguna had been strained at best. Any questions about Squall inevitably made Laguna melancholy and she didn't want to drive the knife in any deeper than it was. But it was Laguna who brought Squall up this time.

“I guess you heard Squall moved to Dollet a few months ago,” Laguna said. “Has his own business.”

So it _was_ him. She'd recognized him right away. Even with his altered appearance there had been no doubt who he was. Whether he'd recognized her was still up for debate. He could have been hiding it, but he'd seemed more confused than anything.  Rinoa almost mentioned that Squall was doing the security installation on her home, but if he didn't remember, perhaps she shouldn't be the one to remind him.  It was a sure bet Laguna would bring it up, if they were in touch at all.

“That's great,” she said. “What does he do?”

“It's a small, high tech security firm,” Laguna said. “I helped him get started a couple years ago. He's got an office in Deling City and opened one here a few months ago.”

“Tell him I'd love to see him if you get the chance,” she said. “Maybe lunch some time?”

“Ahh...” Laguna began and shoved a hand deep into his pocket. “He doesn't remember much about that time in his life. I told him a long time ago using GF's was bad news, but he didn't listen.”

“Oh,” she said. Maybe he'd forgotten the way she'd left. If he had, it was for the best, even if it meant he didn't remember all the good things, either. “Besides that, how's he doing? Married? Kids? House in the suburbs?”

“He's never married, but he's got custody of Lily, Ellone's daughter,” Laguna said. “I tried, but it was just too damned hard to balance everything, so Squall took her in. Can you believe Lily's nine already?”

“Where does the time go?” Rinoa said, sadly. “Last time I saw her in person, she was just a baby.”

“...she looks just like her mother,” Laguna said. He looked away, guilt written all over his face. “She's better off with Squall. She adores him, and he'll do right by her.”

Laguna forced a smile that could only be described as sad.

“Are the two you friendlier these days?” Rinoa asked.

“I'm growing on him,” Laguna said. “But he still thinks I'm a moron.”

“I bet he doesn't,” Rinoa said. Her fingers reached for the necklace she no longer wore. “...he really forgot everything?”

Laguna nodded. “Everything important.”

Perhaps forgetting was the only way he could live with the things he'd done and seen during the course of two wars. Maybe it was the only way he could survive.

At least he'd gotten away from SeeD. The job had sucked the life out of him, and when she'd left he was too tired to fight. Trying to balance his time between Rinoa and Garden proved impossible. Balancing her time between her life in Balamb and the fight for Timber had proved financially impossible. In the end, she'd had to choose between love and her promise to the people of Timber.

And Squall had let her go. Just like that.

“At least he knows who you are,” Rinoa said kindly. “That's important.”

When her husband wheeled himself into the party, Rinoa excused herself to go greet him. He was dressed in a tux, and he'd decked out his wheelchair with little blinking lights. She laughed as he approached, and she crossed the distance between them to greet him with a smile.

Ian beamed a beautiful and charming smile when she found her way to his side. Crippled or damaged or not, her husband was a handsome and generous man with a sense of humor Rinoa could relate to. If their affection for one another wasn't passionate, it was at least genuine.

A car accident when Ian was twenty had left him paralyzed from the waist down and had mangled both legs beyond repair. She'd agreed to marry him five years ago, despite the fact that he could not give her children or love her in all the ways a husband was supposed to. He made up for it with kindness and a genuine fondness for her, and he lavished gifts upon her, even though she never asked for or needed a thing other than his friendship.

“There's my beautiful wife,” he said.

She slipped into his lap to put her arms around him and kiss him sweetly on the lips. He returned her affection openly, chaste but sweet and adoring.

“You look lovely, darling,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said. “You look quite dashing yourself. The lights are fun.”

“I thought the party might need a little more flash,” he said. “Good way to shake off the boring.”

“You should just leave them on all the time,” she said. “Imagine the faces of all those stuffy guys on the board when you roll up in the next meeting twinkling like a disco ball.”

Florian laughed and pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Hyne, I missed you,” he said. “You're the only one who appreciates the little things in life.”

“There's always joy in the absurd,” she swore.

“That's why I married you,” he said. “To help me keep things interesting.”

“That I can do,” she said. “Take me for a spin? Buy a girl a drink?”

“I am your chariot,” he said and wheeled them toward the bar. “How have things been?”

'Same old, different day,” she said. “Security company did a walk-through with Gary today.”

“Oh?” Ian murmured. “Did you speak to the technician?”

“Only briefly,” she said. She did not want Florian to know she had history with the man who would come to know their home intimately over the next few weeks or however long it took to install. “I was in the middle of getting ready.”

“Were you now?”

Rinoa slapped him lightly on the shoulder. She faked a smile, but the implication of infidelity, even if he was joking, offended her.

“I was dressed, thank you very much.”

“You know, I said before-”

“I know what you said before,” she said and placed a finger against his lips. “And I'm not going to discuss it. I'm happy with our arrangement, so let's leave it alone, okay?”

Florian's hand smoothed over her hair and his affectionate smile sent a shiver of guilt down her spine. She enjoyed his company she appreciated him for everything he was and everything he'd done, but she would never get to love him completely. It seemed so unfair to both of them.

“Why do you look so sad, Noni?” he asked.

“Not sad,” she disagreed, “I missed you, too.”

“Come with me next time,” he suggested. “Go shopping in Esthar. Spend my money. Hyne knows, I can't spend it all myself.”

“Maybe I will,” she agreed. “Not spend your money, but go with you, just to get out for a while.”

The truth was, she got lonely in this big, beautiful house. The wives of Florian's associates were no friends of hers, and the house staff refused to befriend her, so there was only the occasional visit from Zell, and those visits were brief and infrequent.

Florian had once told her he'd be fine with her taking a lover, so long as she didn't fall in love and leave him, but she'd refused that idea outright because it wasn't fair to him and it went against the vows she'd made when they'd married. The thought crossed her mind more and more these days as the lonely weeks and months left her craving what she could not have. She wished she could stop thinking about it. She would not be that wife, no matter what Florian said or how much freedom he gave her.

And she wished she could stop thinking about Squall, too. What she'd done to him. What he'd failed to do to keep her in his orbit. How badly things had ended.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Ian asked.

“Just fine,” she promised.

It was a complete and total lie.

 


	2. Chapter 2

At five AM, Squall flicked on the light in Lily's room to begin the difficult morning routine of getting her out of bed. She was notoriously difficult to get moving in the morning and it usually took several tries to coax her to a vertical position. If Squall didn't start early, he'd never be on time for anything.

“Up, Lily.”

When she didn't move, he shook her lightly and called her name again. The girl groaned and rolled over, then covered her face with her pillow, kicked at the sheets and whined something incoherent into the mattress.

“ _Up_ ,” Squall said. “You're going to work with me today.”

Lily removed the pillow, cracked open an eye and glared. Squall was unmoved by her attempt at intimidation. He'd faced bigger and badder in his lifetime and he would not be bested by a stubborn kid.

“Come on, Lil.”

“Noooo,” she moaned.

“Get up and get dressed.”

“Whyyyy?”

“Do I really need to explain that to you?” he asked.

She stuffed her head under her pillow again and growled. Squall pulled it out of her grip and hit her lightly with it as he urged her to get out of bed again.

“Abuse!” she cried.

Squall rolled his eyes. “T-shirt. Jeans. Boots. _Now_.”

“The sun's not even up yet,” she said.

“Get up, Lil,” he said. “Right now.”

She pushed herself up into a semi-vertical slump, with a sleepy-eyed pout. It might have been cute if Squall wasn't forced to do this every single day.

“I'm up,” she said. “Now get out.”

“Do not go back to sleep,” he warned as he backed out the door. “I mean it. I'll be back in five minutes. You better be up.”

He closed the door and leaned against it with his face in his hands. This was their routine, nearly every morning, even on weekends when he let her sleep in. He could command all three Gardens in a time of conflict, but he couldn't make a nine-year-old get out of bed. He didn't know why it had to be so difficult. But it was. Every morning, it was the same thing.

Squall didn't want to drag her along to work with him, but he planned to put her to good use. If this had happened while they were still in Deling City, he could have left her in the office with Seifer for the day, but that wasn't ideal either. The last time he'd left her in Seifer's care, she'd come back with some creative phrases that were not age appropriate. Seifer thought it was hilarious. Squall didn't and it had taken him nearly a week to get her to stop calling him Puberty Boy.

Lily was exhausting, but they had their moments. When she wasn't in the mood to be difficult, she was a pretty good kid. It wasn't as though Squall didn't have affection or sympathy for her, and he loved her more than she knew, but lately, the moments where they got along were few and far between. If she didn't pull it together soon, he was going to have to take drastic measures, starting with a child psychologist and maybe the revocation of a few privileges.

He got dressed in his standard black company t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and heavy-duty work boots. In the bathroom, he tied his hair back and washed his face.

As he stared at his reflection, he barely recognized himself. If not for the constant reminder in the form of a scar between his eyes, he probably wouldn't even remember that he'd been a highly ranked SeeD and Commander. He certainly didn't feel like that man anymore. Time and GF use had all but stripped away the person he'd been, and all that was left was a hollow emptiness that he couldn't shake.

Back in the hall, he pounded on Lily's door. He didn't go inside, though he was sure she was still in bed. He heard nothing from the other side of the door so he banged on it again.

“You better be up,” he said. “Downstairs in five, Lil.”

“I'm up!” she cried, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Don't make me come in there,” he said. “I'm not in the mood to play around.”

Downstairs, he made coffee and fried some eggs for their breakfast. He listened for any sign of movement overhead and heard nothing. He called up the stairs to Lily again, his patience wearing thin.

“Be down in a minute!” she called back, and he heard a thump, and then the sound of footsteps as she hurried to get dressed.

He was almost finished with his breakfast by the time Lily made it downstairs. She was still half asleep and her dark hair a mess of tangles. She went to the fridge, retrieved a can of soda and brought it to the table. Squall picked it up before she could open it and put it back.

“Nice try,” he said.

Lily growled as she sat down and that irked him. She knew the rules but constantly tested them to see what she could get away with. Lately, everything with her was a struggle. Homework. Their morning routine. Going to bed. What to eat or not eat. All of it was a ongoing battle of wills and he didn't have the patience for it.

She stabbed at her plate of eggs as though they offended her, made a face after a single bite, and got up to retrieve a bottle of hot sauce from the fridge. She coated them liberally and Squall watched without comment. The kid put hot sauce on everything. Vegetables. Rice. Even waffles. If this was another way to test him, it was one battle he would not fight. So long as she ate it, Squall didn't care.

He rarely took a lunch on the job, but since Lily would be with him, he wrapped up the leftover pizza and poured the remainder of the coffee into a thermos. He threw everything into his bag, added a couple cans of soda and a pair of apples for later.

They had a few minutes, so he sat back down, drank his coffee and waited for his niece to finish her hot sauce drenched eggs.

What was he going to do with her? She was still upset over losing her mother, but that didn't account for the quiet rage that had built up in her since they'd moved to Dollet. He understood her grief because he shared it, but he didn't get the anger. If she was upset about moving, she hadn't said so.

“This is a big job,” he said, “so please be on your best behavior today.”

“Whatever.”

“I'm serious, Lil,” he said. “No messing around, no talking back, no sulking. If I lose this contract, it means we don't eat.”

“Dramatic much?” she muttered.

“Hey,” he snapped. “Quit with the attitude.”

“Why are you being such a jerk?"

“You're the one who got suspended,” he said. “These are the consequences. Too bad if you don't like them.”

He _felt_ like a jerk. The last few years had been rough on her, as they had been on him, but he couldn't coddle her forever and he wasn't about to put up with the back-talk and the dark moods. Especially if she wasn't willing to tell him what was going on.

What right did Squall have to tell Lily not to defend herself? If someone hit her, she should have the right to stand up for herself without such harsh consequences. Squall himself had survived a childhood full of violence by fighting back. He'd grown up in an environment where fights were a normal, day-to-day activity.

The Dolletian school system was not Garden, and they didn't tolerate skirmishes or violence on school grounds. Garden overlooked the minor brawls from what little Squall remembered. According to Seifer, they had only received a couple of detentions as a result of their skirmishes, and only when other students got dragged into it or it devolved into what Seifer referred to as a “death match.” But even those had mostly gone unpunished.

“I'm not doing this to be mean, Lil,” he promised.

“Whatever.”

“Look, I know it's tough starting over in a new place,” he said. “And if you really were defending yourself, I don't fault you for that, but you have to play by the rules from now on. If you get expelled, I'm going to have to put you in a private school, and I can't really afford it right now.”

“Laguna can pay for it,” she said.

Squall had already borrowed the start-up funds for his business from Laguna. He didn't want to ask for more. Laguna would probably be happy to throw more money at him if it was for Lily's sake, but Squall didn't want Laguna to think he was absolved of his negligence or could buy his way out of responsibility.

Though Squall had learned to respect his father's selflessness and generous nature, Laguna tended to mindlessly ignore the important things or get wrapped up in things that took him away from what mattered. And the things that mattered were those things that money _couldn't_ buy.

“He probably can, but I shouldn't have to ask, Lil.”

“Why can't I just stay home?” she asked. “I promise I won't do anything stupid.”

“Because you're nine,” he said. “And the babysitter can't come last minute.”

“I'm not a baby!” she said. “And I'm here by myself every afternoon.”

“For half an hour,” he said. “That's not a whole day.”

“What's the difference?"

“It's a big difference, and we're not going to debate it,” he said. “Believe me, this is as much an inconvenience to me as it is to you.”

“Oh, so I'm an inconvenience?”

“That's not what I said,” he said. “Don't make it sound like I don't want you here.”

“Feels like it most of the time,” she sulked. “I'm only here because no one else was stupid enough to take me in.”

“That's not true.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she got up to dump her plate in the sink. There was something about this conversation that was way too familiar. It was an echo of something long ago that he couldn't quite recall and wasn't sure he wanted to.

“Lil, is that what this is about?” he asked. “You think no one wanted you?”

“I didn't see anyone else raise their hand,” she said quietly. “Did you?”

Squall would never question Laguna's love for Lily. That was never in doubt, but Lily had every right to be angry with her grandfather. In a way, he was less emotionally capable of taking on the task of caring for Lily than Squall was. He was fun, loving and caring when he was available, but that was less often than it should have been.

Squall wasn't any better at this than Laguna was, but he'd be damned if he gave up on her. Lily was part of what little family he had, and he owed it to Ellone to make sure Lily was taken care of. He wasn't about to throw in the towel, even if he had no idea what he was doing.

“Your mother was important to me,” he said. “That means you are too.”

She wiped her eyes and washed her plate without another word. Squall didn't know what else to say or how to convince her it was true. He squeezed her shoulder affectionately but it wasn't enough. Her face remained sullen as she cleaned the dish, put it on the rack to dry, then turned her back to him.

She needed more from him, too, but what she needed, he couldn't give her. He was not her mother. He would never be able to replace Ellone or bring her back.

“You _are_ important to me,” he said.

Lily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Like the trouper she was, she squared her shoulders and turned back to him without comment.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah, if I have to,” she said.

“Fix your hair and I'll go load the truck.”

Ten minutes later, they were headed for the office, Lily silent as she stared out the window on the opposite side of the bench seat. This was partially his fault, for lacking the skills to do a better job raising her, but his only examples to follow were the absentee father and the one who had turned him into a killer.

He had to fix this. He could not afford to let Lily down.

At the office, he had Lily file some paperwork for him while he surveyed his inventory. He had enough cameras in stock to replace half of the ones already installed at the Delacroix Estate, but only six monitors. He was also short on window and door contacts, and needed at least two more entry alarm panels. He made notes and then called Seifer to see if he could get what he needed shipped.

Seifer had not been Squall's first choice as a business partner. Initially, he'd tried to recruit Zell because Zell had a gift for working with electronics and machinery, and he was great with people. Zell thought about it for almost a month, but had turned Squall down because he had two young daughters, a cushy instructor job that required a maximum of two missions a year, and he didn't want to leave small-town Balamb for the big city.

Seifer had come on board after Squall's brief employment with a security firm in Deling City. He'd worked as body guard for Galbadia's Vice President - a boring and uneventful job that paid decent but offered no mental stimulation.  Seifer had been on Squall's rotation, and they'd aggressively avoided each other for months. There was only the occasional nod of acknowledgment or a grunted greeting when their paths crossed and nothing more.

Squall only remembered Seifer as the Knight he couldn't seem to kill during the war, while Seifer remembered everything. Seifer had impressed the hell out of Squall on that job with his professionalism and instinctual leadership. Seifer spoke and people listened.

During a long and boring political summit, Seifer broke the ice and started a conversation about their days at Garden, the orphanage, and all the brawls outside of class. Squall remembered none of it until Seifer brought it up. His memory was a bucket with holes in the bottom and everything before his departure from Garden was gone.

It took a few weeks of conversation before Squall started to see Seifer not as a former enemy, and maybe not quite a friend, but a potential business partner. Seifer had extensive knowledge of security and surveillance equipment and a surprisingly strong head for numbers. He was also good with people, in an blunt and no-bullshit kind of way. Eventually, Squall proposed the idea of starting the business together in Deling City.

Seifer gave it thirty seconds of thought before he said yes. And from there, they'd built a small, specialized business that catered to corporations and the rich, and they were finally pulling enough of a profit to make ends meet.

“Kiss My Ass Security Service,” Seifer answered.

“You better not be answering the main line that way.”

“Naw, I just did it 'cause I knew it was you, and I knew it would piss you off,” Seifer said. “What's up?”

“Need some stuff,” Squall said. “Find out if you have it and overnight it. I'll message you an address.”

“This for the Delacroix job?”

“It is. I'm replacing everything.”

“Nice,” Seifer said with approval. “Run into Rinoa yet?”

Squall was thrown by that. Seifer said it like they were old friends, as if they'd known one another well.

“You know her?”

“Goddamn Leonhart, your mind's got more holes than a fishing net,” Seifer said. “You're telling me you don't remember her at all?”

“You know I don't.”

Squall poked at a spiderweb in the corner with a broom as he waited for Seifer's response. He made a mental note to get his part-time secretary to do some cleaning on her next shift.

“Well, it's a long, painful story and I don't feel like reminiscing on bad times,” Seifer said with a sigh. “Gimmie the list.”

The abrupt change of subject threw Squall again. What did he mean painful? Rather than ask, Squall rattled off the needed items from his list.

“Shit, you really are replacing everything. I'll let you know what I can send,” Seifer said. “Fujin's heading that way this evening, so I'll have her bring you what we've got.”

“That works for me,” Squall said. “Have her stop by the office or the house.”

“Will do,” Seifer said. “How's Lil?”

“A mess,” Squall admitted. “She got suspended from school yesterday. Broke a girl's arm.”

“Go Lil,” Seifer said. “I knew there was a little badass in her.”

“Do not let her hear you say that,” Squall said. “I'm having to drag her along with me today because I have no one to look after her.”

“Oh, I bet she's just thrilled about that.”

“You have no idea,” Squall said. “I don't know what the hell I'm doing, man. If she says _whatever_ one more time, I'm going to lose it.”

Seifer snorted and then started to laugh.

“That used to be your favorite word, Leonhart,” Seifer said. “For a while, I thought it was the only one you knew.”

“I don't remember that,” Squall said.

“I'd say I'm sympathetic, but I'm not. Payback's a bitch.”

“Way to be supportive,” Squall said. “I don't know what to do with her. She's getting picked on in school and she thinks she's unwanted and unwelcome at home.”

“Lemmie talk to her. I'll set her straight.”

“Absolutely not,” Squall said, prompting a laugh from Seifer. “Gotta go, man. Let me know what you're sending with Fujin.”

“I'll message it as soon as I know,” Seifer said. “Tell Lil I said hi.”

He pocketed his phone and started stacking the needed equipment on a dolly.

“Lily?” he called. “Come help me, please.”

“I'm not done with the filing!”

“It can wait.”

Lily sauntered into the store room and frowned as she surveyed the boxes. Squall instructed her to start stacking a second dolly while he unloaded the first onto the truck. When he returned, she was still working on it and he sighed. Instead of telling her to pick up the pace, he helped. She was already feeling bad and he didn't want to make it worse. Besides, she was just a kid and he couldn't expect her to work at the same pace as he did.

They arrived at the Delacroix Estate fifteen minutes early, but Squall started unloading the equipment right away.  Lily handed him boxes from the bed of the truck and Squall re-stacked them on the dollies. When they were done, Lily wiped her forehead and looked at the boxes with a frown.

“You do this by yourself every day?” she asked.

“Most days,” he said.

“That sucks.”

“How I pay the bills, kiddo,” he said as he handed her a box cutter. “Do me a favor and start unboxing those monitors. Be very careful with that – it's sharp.”

“I know how to use a box cutter,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Cut away from yourself, blah, blah, blah.”

As he stacked boxes on the dolly, he spied a man in a wheelchair coming their way. Squall knew who he was immediately, even though they'd never met in person and had only spoken on the phone.

Florian Delacroix was younger than Squall thought he'd be, maybe mid-thirties, and he wore a friendly smile as he rolled himself down the sidewalk to greet them.

“You must be Mr. Loire,” Delacroix said.

“Just Leo,” Squall said. “Mr. Delacroix, I presume?”

“If we're going to be informal, please just call me Florian. Or Ian, if you prefer,” he said. He looked at Lily. “I see you brought a helper today.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Squall said. “This is my niece, Lily. I don't usually bring her, but something came up last minute and I didn't have a sitter lined up.”

“No school today?”

“No,” Squall said. It wasn't appropriate to explain the situation to a client. “She's out today.”

“Well, no worries. It's a big job. I'm sure you could use an extra pair of hands getting started.”

“I appreciate your understanding,” Squall said.

“No problem at all,” Delacroix said. He cleared his throat and his friendly expression sobered into something more business-like. “Gary didn't give me details about what needs to be done. Mind getting me up to speed? Just so I know what's going on?”

Squall gave the man an abbreviated synopsis of everything that needed to be replaced and all the extra things that needed to be installed to ensure every window and door was secured. Filthy rich or not, he expected the man to balk at the escalating cost of the job, but Delacroix nodded his approval.

“If you want, I can link your safe into the system without a problem,” he said. “It'll make it easier to monitor if everything can be accessed from the same place

“The more efficient, the better,” Delacroix said. “I want to ensure no one can get in or out without being seen.”

Something about the way he said it gave Squall pause.

“Have you had issues in the past?”

“My staff isn't stealing from me, if that's what you're asking,” Delacroix said. “But...I might as well tell you, and please don't share this with my wife, but someone's been making threats against her. I'm sure it's just a prank, but just the same, her safety is of the utmost importance to me, being that I'm gone more than I'm home.”

“What kind of threats?” Squall asked. He wondered why anyone would bother with a pampered socialite who seemed to spend most of her time on charity work and looking pretty.

“The kind that require top of the line security.”

Squall wondered if these threats had anything to do with the man himself. He already knew enough of the world of the wealthy to understand that when a business became involved with shady funding and organized crime, threats against the family were a common way to ensure compliance. Perhaps he'd angered someone who had the will and the means to torment and threaten to hurt the wife to bend Delacroix to their will.

That was none of Squall's business, so he didn't ask for details. His job was to install the system, get it working and then turn it over to Gary.

“I'd suggest beefing up your physical security as well if her safety is a concern,” Squall said. “Maybe hire an extra heavy or two to patrol the grounds.”

“Any recommendations?”

“I'll get you the number for Ironclad Security. They're reliable and specialize in this sort of thing. They do regular work for President Caraway and the Dollet Monarchy,” Squall said as he handed the man a business card for his former employer. “They're contract only, so you'll be locked in for a year or more, depending. Otherwise, I can get you in touch with Commander Trepe of Balamb Garden if you'd like something less permanent. SeeD can also help you investigate who's behind the threats if need be.”

“Those are some impressive contacts,” Delacroix said. “I'll take both under consideration.”

The man looked at the business card and stuck it in the pocket of his vest, his eyes troubled. He hadn't stated what kind of threats, but his behavior indicated they were not the kind easily dismissed as a prank.

“Your wife have any enemies that you know of?” Squall asked. It was none of his business, but his curiosity was piqued. “I only met her briefly, but she doesn't seem like the type to have angered anyone.”

“You'd be surprised at the kind of hatred there is in this world,” Delacroix said. The bitterness in his tone was unexpected. “People can be cruel.”

“I'm an ex-SeeD, Mr. Delacroix,” Squall said. “Precious little surprises me anymore.”

* * *

 

Rinoa spent her day organizing a clothing drive for the needy of Timber. Among her social circle, it wasn't uncommon to donate last season's fashions, but during her most recent clothing drive, she noticed that people often donated copious amounts of unwanted dresses, pants and tops, but neglected the really necessary and basic things like underwear, pajamas and socks and practical shoes. No one even thought about how important those things were to people who couldn't afford them.

The children in particular were overlooked when it came to donations, and she decided that instead of collecting the designer cast-offs of a bunch of spoiled socialites, she'd host an “Undie Party” and collect new, unused packages of socks, underwear, pajamas and new or gently used tennis shoes in children's sizes.

While Timber had been liberated, the country still struggled to build an economy on their own. Their livelihood had literally burned away years ago, and there was no industry left to fall back on except a handful of tree farms that had yet to yield a harvest. Poverty and homelessness was a big problem, and jobs were scarce, low paying, and there was no money for a welfare program. Times were tough, and there were too many people in need, many of them children and that broke Rinoa's heart every time she visited.

In her darker moments, Rinoa worried that Timber's freedom hadn't been worth what it cost the citizens in the long run. In her idealistic youth, she had never considered what came after. No one had. For everyone in the city, freedom was a bright, shining beacon that would solve all their problems.

They'd been wrong to believe independence was a magic solution and that everything would be sunshine and roses once they were free of Galbadia's rule. The loss of Galbadia's support had cost Timber what little funding they'd had. In protest, Galbadian owned businesses closed up shop and moved elsewhere. There was no money to fix infrastructure problems, no funds for low-income housing assistance, no unemployment initiatives. All of it was gone once the deal was done.

This was something that hadn't even occurred to Rinoa and her friends in the Owls. They'd wanted independence, they'd fought for it and eventually made it happen, but no one had planned for what came after. The proverbial curtain had fallen, and the city had fallen with it.

While Rinoa didn't regret helping them gain independence, it hurt to see her beloved town suffer. It would bounce back eventually, as companies and businesses saw Timber's potential, but it would take time. All she could do now was support them as best as she could and use her contacts to encourage businesses to take advantage of the inexpensive property and the eager workforce.

Ian was currently in talks with a manufacturing firm to open a plant in the old industrial complex. It would bring jobs and industry to the city and maybe it would be what Timber needed to turn things around. Until it did, Rinoa would do everything in her power to help.

Florian wheeled into her makeshift office in the library as she finished up a draft of her invitation for the party. He grinned broadly as he spied her pajama bottoms and moogle house shoes – a gift from Selphie, of course. Not that she'd seen Selphie in years, but she still remembered to send a gift and a card on Rinoa's birthday.

“I wish I could go to the office in pajamas,” he said.

“I bet you could if you wanted to,” she said. “You are the boss, you know.”

“Pair that with the blinking lights and the board would have me committed,” he said. “What are you working on?”

She pushed the invitation across the desk for him to see.

“Oh lord,” he said. “This gives new meaning to _picture everyone in their underwear_.'”

“Like it?”

“I love it,” he said with feeling. “Though, I'm not sure if I want to see Emelda Fontaine in lingerie. Or half the people we know, for that matter.”

“That's why it's fun,” she said devilishly. “We get to find out who's got guts and who doesn't. Besides, pajamas are welcome. And should probably be encouraged in some cases.”

“You are too much,” he said. “When are we having this little soiree?”

“I haven't decided,” she said. “Miranda DeLong is actively trying to outdo me and has some event going on every weekend for the next three weeks.”

“Are we expected at Miranda's shindigs?”

“We are, but I'm only going to one, unless you want to go.”

“Not in particular,” he said. “Besides, I'll be in Deling City.”

“Oh, good, then I have an excuse not to go,” she said. “I was wracking my brain trying to come up with an excuse to decline.”

“Not a fan, huh?”

“She's not a fan of me,” Rinoa said. “I've heard she refers to me as _The Felon_ behind my back.”

“She's got some nerve. You only busted out of prison once,” he teased.

“Actually, I didn't bust out, my father had me released,” she said. “What I _did_ do was threaten a renown sniper with mutilation so he would help me break back in. How many people do you know that can say _that?_ ”

“My wife, the badass,” he said with a grin. “Next time someone gives you a hard time, you stick your finger in their face and say to them: _Listen, you, I helped save the world, so you just shut your surgically altered trap!_ ”

Rinoa snorted and poked him in in the shoulder with her pencil. “That'll definitely help me win a few friends.”

Florian's smile fell and he reached for her hand across the desk. He brought her knuckles to his lips, earnest green eyes full of sympathy.

“I'm sorry they're so shitty to you,” he said. “I thought they'd eventually accept you.”

“No big deal,” she said. “It's not like I want to be one of them. I just want them to throw money at my causes and be done with it.”

“You are good at guilting them into it.”

“The only reason they do charitable work at all is because it looks bad if they don't,” she said. “I do it because I believe in it.”

“And that's one of the many, many reasons why I'm glad I married you,” he said and kissed her hand again.

“I'm glad I married you, too,” she said with a sincere smile.

He picked up her invitation again and looked it over. A moment later, he set it down on the desk and folded his hands in his lap.

“Listen, I don't want you to worry, but I'm adding a few bodies to our security staff,” he said. “Just a precaution, so don't freak out if there are a few big, scary, muscular dudes running around the property.”

“You got me some eye candy?” she asked. “Really, you shouldn't have!”

Florian laughed and threw a pencil eraser at her. Rinoa threw it back.

“No need to worry, darling,” he said as he dodged her attack. “Everything's fine.”

“Is there something going on that I need to know about?”

“Not in particular,” he said. “I just realized that we're severely lacking in the security department compared to everyone else.”

Rinoa suspected he wasn't telling the full truth, but if there was something she needed to know, she was sure he would bring it up. They didn't keep secrets. If it was important, he would let her know.

“I have a surprise for you later,” he said.

“A bigger surprise than eye candy?”

“Maybe not bigger, but better,” he said.

“Do I get a hint?”

“Nope.”

“I hate surprises.”

“You'll love this one. I promise.”

Leo-Squall poked his head inside the library door, and Rinoa sat up straighter in her seat. She tucked her moogle clad feet under the desk and ran a hand over her hair.

What was she doing? She was a married woman. Squall didn't remember her. What was the point of trying to pretty herself up for a man she'd left behind years ago?

“Sorry to interrupt,” Leo-Squall said. “I'll come back later.”

“No, it's fine,” Rinoa said. “Come on in. My husband is distracting me from my work anyway.”

Squall entered the room with a ladder and a box of equipment. A young, dark-haired girl followed behind him, a heavy tool bag slung over her shoulder. She was the spitting image of Ellone Loire.

It took everything bit of her restraint to not get up and give the girl a hug. Lily wouldn't remember her, and that was the only thing that stopped Rinoa from getting up to greet her. Rinoa had been close with Ellone, but after she'd left Balamb, she'd lost touch. She'd heard about Ellone's death six months after it happened, and she'd been heartbroken. Heartbroken for Squall, and for Lily, but also because she hadn't gotten the chance to say goodbye.

“Forgive me for breaking your concentration,” Ian said, wheeling over to give her a kiss on the lips.

“You can break my concentration any time,” she promised with a smile.

In the corner, Leo-Squall set up the ladder and climbed it while Lily looked around in wide eyed awe. At the door, Ian flicked his eyes to Squall and then back to Rinoa, flashed a quick, kind smile and left her to her work.

She looked over her invitation again, but her eyes were drawn to the man on the ladder. She watched in silence as he dismantled the ancient camera and disconnected frayed wiring from the wall.

“Hand me the needle nose pliers, Lil,” he said to the girl. Lily obediently handed him the tool. When he handed the old camera down to her, she took it and dumped it into the box. “Now the bracket and the drill.”

Little had changed about him physically. He was still fit and strong, his arms hard and ropy, his waist narrow and lean. From the desk, Rinoa admired the lines of his shoulders and the unconscious grace with which he moved. Time had not changed the meticulous and methodical way he approached a task, nor had it stolen his focus.

Her heart gave a tug as she thought about the days when things were still good between them. Before Garden had stolen away all his free time, they'd been inseperable. What fun it had been to knock down the walls he'd constructed, to see him smile and laugh and act his age. They'd been so in love...

“Alright, Lil,” he said. “Get the vacuum.”

Lily retrieved a small hand-held vacuum from the tool bag and knelt down to suck up the fine dust and metal shavings on the floor.

Rinoa suppressed a laugh. What a Squall thing to do. Time had evidently not erased his insistence on tidiness, either.

He caught her watching and lifted an eyebrow at her barely concealed smirk.

“Sorry,” she said. “Most of our contractors don't clean up after themselves like that.”

“Policy,” he said shortly as he tested the camera bracket.

“I wish all of them had that policy. You should have seen the mess the plumbers left when they replaced the pipe under my bathroom sink.”

“Just being courteous,” he said.

“Is it policy to bring along child labor?” she teased.

“See?” Lily said. “Abuse!”

The tops of Squall's ears colored as he glared down at his niece. His cheeks were probably red, too, but the stubble hid the blush that was surely there. He'd always blushed so easily and time hadn't changed that either.

“No, it's not policy, _or_ abuse,” he said and gave the girl a hard look. “I didn't have anyone to watch her today.”

“Do you need a sitter?” Rinoa asked. “I can arrange for someone to give you a hand.”

“Thank you for the offer, but, I think getting to see what I do every day to pay the bills is a valuable lesson.”

“Well, I can't disagree with that,” Rinoa said.

The look he gave her said he doubted she'd worked a single day in her life. He really didn't remember anything. If fighting a war with him didn't qualify as hard work, she didn't know what did.

She did not want him to think of her as the spoiled wife of a rich man, even if she was. She did not want him to think she didn't know what it was like to struggle. It wasn't fair of him to assume that she'd never lifted a finger or had everything handed to her on a platter.

Perhaps a reminder was in order. Or at least an education.

“I ran away from home when I was 15 and lived on a train with a resistance faction for over a year,” she said with a smile. “I learned the hard way the value of a Gil. Sometimes, it was pretty tough.”

Lily looked at her with curiosity. Squall's expression was unreadable.

“You lived on a train?” Lily asked. “For real?”

“For real,” Rinoa said.

“Why'd you run away?”

“A bunch of reasons,” she said. “Mostly because I wanted to help people. I learned pretty quick it was a lot harder than I'd thought. There where days where there was no work to earn money to eat, so I had to go without.”

“You didn't have food at all?” Lily asked. “That sucks.”

“Sometimes people would help us out or the bakery would let me have the stale bread if I cleaned their kitchen, but most of the time...if I didn't work, I didn't eat.”

“But you're so rich now,” Lily said.

“I married well,” she said with a small smile. “And money isn't everything. It helps you do the things you want to do, and I can help people now without worrying about how to come up with the money for it, but it's not everything.”

There was a little more respect in Squall's eyes as he nodded minutely, as though she'd said exactly what Lily needed to hear.

“I also fought in a war and helped Timber gain their independence,” she said. “That wasn't easy. The fighting especially.”

“Which war?” Squall asked, his curiosity piqued. “The Galbadian War?”

He referred to the most recent war, which had followed their fight against Ultimecia. The death of Vinzer Deling had left Galbadia in a state of civil unrest and her father had contracted SeeD to step in and put an end to it. It had been a long, arduous battle. Squall had led the charge, but Rinoa had not been allowed to fight. Her status as a Sorceress had prevented her from aligning herself with either side to show neutrality. Afterwards, there was a swift blacklash from both sides for that neutrality and it only complicated things for her and Squall.

“The one before that.”

“Were you G-Army? Or SeeD?”

“Neither,” she said, “Though you could say I sided with Balamb.”

He looked perplexed but then shook his head. He really didn't remember any of this? Her part in the war, or how they'd met or any of the time that followed? Her brow furrowed as she watched him struggle to put it together.

“You don't look like a fighter.”

“Well, I'm no Rank A SeeD, but I can still hold my own,” she said. “If I have to.”

“Huh.”

“Still think I'm a spoiled princess?” she teased.

“I never said that.”

“No, but you were definitely thinking it.”

He opened his mouth to say something but he closed it immediately. Still so serious. Still unable to speak his mind.

“I'm used to people assuming things about me,” she said. “And believe me, a spoiled princess is one of the nicer things I've been called.”

“I didn't mean to offend you.”

“Don't worry about it. You didn't,” she said. She pushed her pile of notes aside and smiled. “Would you guys like to join me for lunch? It's no fun to eat all by myself.”

“Thanks, but we brought our own.”

“Are you sure? We've got plenty.”

“I appreciate it, but it's not necessary.”

Rinoa sighed and decided to let it go.

For now.

* * *

 As Squall carried the ladder and his supplies out into the hall, he tried to get a handle on the conversation he'd just had. It was difficult to picture Mrs. Delacroix as a runaway, homeless and dependent on bakery cast-offs to survive. He could not picture her ever raising a weapon to head into battle. If she'd sided with Balamb, their paths must have crossed, but he had no memory of it. He couldn't recall if any civilians had joined the fight, but if her claim was truth, then there must have been at least one.

Something strange was happening here. He could not shake the sense that he was supposed to read between the lines. Just like her comment before, about the forests of Timber, there was subtext he could not make sense of. Her words were laden with clues or hints or suggestions that there was more to it, but his memory-wiped brain could not put the pieces together.

His shrink had once urged him to read up on the war, to jog his lost memories, but this was another thing he'd avoided doing. He didn't want to remember it. The things he could recall were bad enough, and he had no interest in tearing the bandages off old wounds. He had forgotten for a reason. Memories were just a distraction and there was no point in looking back. The past was the past, and he did not want to relive any of it.

“What's next?” Lily asked.

“Calibrating the cameras we installed this morning,” Squall said. He dug through the tool bag and retrieved a small walkie-talkie for her to take. “You're going to sit in the control room and tell me what you see when I ask.”

“Okay,” she said. She sounded more enthusiastic than she had in days.

They spent the rest of the afternoon working on it, until all six cameras and monitors were perfectly calibrated. Lily proved to be a bigger help than Squall expected, and her attitude changed for the better as the day went on. Instead of the cranky girl who wouldn't get out of bed, he saw a glimpse of the old Lily and even managed to coax a smile or two out of her.

He spent some time showing Gary how to operate the new system. This proved to be the most dificult task of the day. The older man was not technologically inclined and did not understand how to use a computer beyond the basics. It was a time consuming task, but if the man would be resonsible for the system once it was up and running, he would need to know how to use it.

Lily helped Squall clean up, and after, they headed outside to re-count the exterior cameras. Lily took notes for him as he surveyed the property. He planned to add a few more so that every square inch of the exterior was covered. How Delacroix had gotten away with so little coverage was beyond him, but this was a problem Squall could remedy.

As they made their way around to the back of the house, he spied Mrs. Delacroix on the pool deck in a skimpy red bikini. She sipped on something in a martini glass that probably wasn't juice, a paperback book in her hand. He stopped in his tracks, unable to tear his eyes from her lean, beautiful legs or the curve of her narrow waist.

“ _Get in the water, Leonhart.”_

“ _Fish pee in there.”_

“ _I have Sorceress powers. I can make you.”_

“ _Unfair advantage.”_

“ _Yep, and I'll exploit it for all it's worth if you don't get in this instant.”_

What the hell? What was this? As with the memories the day before, it was fleeting. There and then gone.

Unsettled, he blinked it way, but his eyes were still riveted on the woman on the pool deck.

“Squall?” Lily asked, looking up at him with curiosity and concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. He forced his eyes to Lily and patted her gently on the shoulder. “How about we call it a day?”

Squall had never turned down a job before, nor had he ever backed out of one, but the strange and disturbing memories were reason enough to consider it. Maybe he could convince Seifer to take over. It would earn him ridicule, but nothing about this job made sense. And the more he encountered Mrs. Delacroix, the more he wondered about Seifer's insinuation that they had history.

“Why don't we stop by the grocery store and get something to throw on the grill?” Squall suggested as they loaded up the truck. “Maybe steak or chicken?”

“Steak,” Lily said, “but you have to make it more bloody this time.”

Amused, Squall tousled her hair as he opened the door for her.

“More bloody?” he asked. “You mean rare?”

“Whatever you call it,” she said with a shrug. “I want it to ooze pink when I cut it.”

“You're gross,” he said.

“ _You're_ gross,” she teased back.

This was the Lily he'd missed. For the first time in nearly a month, he saw shades of the cheerful, funny and blunt little girl he knew and loved. He kissed her on the temple and made sure she was buckled in before he closed the door.

“You did good today, kid,” he told her as he drove off the property. “You were a big help.”

“Can I work with you tomorrow, too?” she asked.

The regular sitter hadn't called him back, so he agreed under the condition that she would get out of bed when told. He didn't tell her he probably would have to take her with him anyway. Better to let her think she had done such a good job she'd been invited back.

“Squall?” she asked. “How come you don't have a girlfriend?”

“None of your business, kiddo.”

“You don't even date,” she said. “It's weird.”

Squall laughed at her adult-like tone of concern.

“I have my reasons.”

“Well, all the moms from school think you're hot,” she said, matter of fact.

“How do you know that?” Squall said.

“I heard them talking at one of those stupid class mixer things. They were all talking about you,” she said. “They said you were dark and mysterious.”

Squall snorted and tried not to laugh. It was flattering, but he wasn't interested.

“My teacher thinks so, too. And she's single. And pretty.”

He ignored the not-so-subtle suggestion. The last thing he needed was to be set up by a kid.

“What's with the sudden concern, Lil?” Squall asked. “Why do you care about that stuff, anyway?”

“I don't know,” Lily said with a shrug. “You just seem...lonely.”

“I'm not lonely,” he lied. “I've got you.”

He sensed rather than saw her roll her eyes.

“You think girls have cooties or something?” she asked.

"Cooties? No,” he said with a laugh. Then he sobered. “Relationships are hard, Lil. And I'm not...”

How was he supposed to explain to Lily that he couldn't maintain a relationship? That it was too emotional and messy and too easy to get hurt?

“What are you afraid of?” she asked.

Was he so transparent, a nine-year-old could see through him? Was it that obvious?

“I just don't have time, kiddo,” he said.

Lily was quiet as she stared out the window and chewed on the nail of her pinky finger.

“Quit that,” he said.

She put her hands in her lap and turned to stare at him in that too-adult way of hers.

“My mom was lonely,” she said. “She never talked about my dad because it made her miss him too much. She said, sometimes you love someone so much, your heart stays broken after they're gone.”

Lily's father had been a White SeeD that Ellone had known since she was a teenager. He'd died in a training accident at sea when Lily was just a baby, but he'd been a good man and Ellone had loved him deeply. She'd never gotten over him.

“I guess that's true for some people,” he said. “When you lose too many people, it's... sometimes it's hard to let other people in.”

“I know,” Lily said. “Mom told me. But wouldn't that make you want stuff like that even more? I mean, being alone is scary.”

“Lil, I don't think I can talk about this right now,” he said.

Her stare was hard and full of disappointment, as though she had expected him to confess all his sins.

“You really don't need to worry about this, kiddo,” he said. “I'm fine. I work too much to have time for dating anyway. Besides, I thought you hated your teacher.”

“Not Miss Brandon,” Lily said. “She's really nice. It's the other ones that are twats.”

“Lily!”

“What? Seifer says it all the time.”

“Just because Seifer says it, doesn't mean you can, and you know it,” Squall said. She knew better but was testing the boundaries. “And you better not be using that word at school.”

“Whatever,” she said.

She lapsed into silence and stared out the passenger window. Just when he thought she'd snapped out of it, the attitude was back.

He steered the truck into the parking lot of the grocery store and parked. Inside, he sent Lily off in search of items as he wandered the aisles. He leaned heavily against the shopping cart as he pushed it through the produce department in search of salad ingredients. 

Since he'd first laid eyes on Mrs. Delacroix, his world had begun to tilt sideways. What did it matter if they'd met before? Why did it all seem so damned important, like he'd missed some crucial detail that should have been obvious?

He was in the meat aisle when his phone rang.

“Loire,” he answered.

“It's me,” Seifer said. “Fujin's on her way with your stuff. I messaged you a list of everything she's bringing. We had most of it, but you're gonna have to order a few things.”

“Every little bit helps,” Squall said. “The sooner I can get this job done, the better.”

“That doesn't sound good,” Seifer said. “Delacroix a dick?”

“No,” Squall said. “I just want to get it done.”

He didn't feel like getting into the particulars with Seifer. Especially when he didn't know what the particulars were.

“Got some good news for you,” Seifer said. “Picked up a contract with the Bank of Galbadia today. Camera upgrade. Every branch. Big payday.”

“Seriously?” Squall asked. “That's great. Who's doing the install?”

“Me and Raijin,” Seifer said. “I'll have Fujin run the office while I'm out.”

Squall groaned. Fujin was a exceptional tech, but no one lost clients faster than she did. It wasn't her fault. She came across as rude without mening to, and those who didn't know her mistook her abruptness for anger. The last time she'd been in charge of the office, she'd answered every call with her customary, “WHAT?” and it resulted in multiple customer complaints.

“Hire a temp for the phones,” Squall said. “Please.”

“Already taken care of,” Seifer said. “Got it handled.”

“Is Fujin coming to the house, or just stopping at the office?”

“Just the office,” Seifer said. “She's doing that overnight job at the Dollet Hospital, so she won't have time to stick around.”

“I forgot about that. She need any help?” he asked.

“Nah, she's got it. It's just a software upgrade,” Seifer said. “You need any help? Raijin's free until we start the bank job. Might speed things along.”

Raijin had no aptitude for the job, but he was useful as an assistant, and he was a hard worker. Still, Squall preferred to work alone because he didn't like to chat, and Raijin was a talker. He talked about anything and everything, non-stop.

“I'm good,” Squall said. “Hey, you wanna trade jobs? I'll take the bank and you finish this up for me?”

Seifer started laughing.

“ _Hell_ no.”

“Why not?”

“Because Rinoa, that's why,” Seifer said. “Way too much history.

Squall couldn't help but wonder what his own history with her was. Because he was certain they had some.

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you surprised?" Florian asked. "Her name is Angel."

This was not what Rinoa expected when Ian said he had a surprise for her. Already half in love, she knelt on the floor of the library to receive licks and sniffs from her new pet. She dragged her fingers through the Trabian Shephard's dark, shiny fur and was rewarded with an enthusiastic tail wag and a lick on the chin.

"She's beautiful, Ian," Rinoa said. "Thank you."

"Tomorrow, her trainer will be out to teach you all the commands," Ian said. "Including attack commands."

"So you're a lover  _and_  a fighter," Rinoa said as the dog licked her neck. "You and I will get along just fine, then."

"I thought you might feel better having a companion that's actually happy to see you," Florian said. "And I'll feel better knowing you're protected. Hyne knows, I can't do it myself."

Rinoa glanced up at her husband, suspicious. His smile was tinged with worry, but she saw no deception there. Still, a security upgrade was one thing. Adding a few extra security guards and a trained attack dog on top of it was another.

Uneasy, Rinoa got up and dropped into Ian's lap.

"I'm pretty good at protecting myself, you know, Sorceress and all," she said. "You don't have to worry about me."

"I will anyway," he said. "I just want to make sure I've got all the bases covered."

"Are you sure that's all?"

Ian dragged his fingers through her hair and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"That's all."

Angel sat obediently at their feet and waited patiently for a command or another opportunity to receive affection. Rinoa reached out and scratched the dog between the ears. She was rewarded with a lick to the hand and a big, happy doggy grin.

"And, since I'm leaving for Deling City tomorrow, I thought I'd take you to dinner," Ian said. "I have reservations at Alexander's if you're up for it."

Alexander's was Rinoa's favorite restaurant. It was upscale, with a menu that rivaled the best in town, but it was more relaxed than the standard rich-people haunt. It usually featured a live band that played fun, upbeat swing and jazz music and the staff encouraged dancing.

It was not Ian's favorite place to dine. The restaurant was too loud and boisterous for Ian's tastes, and he couldn't indulge her in a dance. He only took Rinoa there to make her happy.

The thing was, he didn't have to. She _was_ happy for the most part, even in her moments of regret and dissatisfaction. She had everything she could ask for and more, and she valued Florian's companionship more than any material thing he could give her. She just couldn't seem to convince him it wasn't  _things_  that she wanted or needed from him.

"I suppose we could go," she said with a hint of a smile. "If you're up for it."

"Of course I am," he said.

"Okay," she agreed, getting to her feet. "I guess I should go find something to wear."

"Wear something red, please," he said rakishly. "You look stunning in red."

"What if I feel like wearing green tonight?" she teased.

"That works too," he said. "You also look stunning in green."

Rinoa dressed in red anyway. She chose a sleeveless silk shift that was light and airy and belted at the waist. It was simple but elegant and when paired with a set of ruby earrings and a square cut ruby pendant, she looked like a million Gil. Then she did the math in her head. The outfit was worth at least that much. She'd never really thought about it before, but the necklace alone could have fed a family in Timber for at least three months. More if they were frugal.

As she applied her make up and pinned her hair up in a loose bun, she looked at her reflection and saw an impostor. She was only pretending to be a rich man's wife. Only pretending to be elegant and refined. She was just a little girl, playing dress up in her mother's clothes. A sense of unreality came over her as she looked at the gemstones and the expensive silk.

Who was she? Where had the rebellious freedom fighter gone? Was this really her life?

She missed going to hole-in-the-wall restaurants where the floor was covered in peanut shells and the service was surly and slow. She wanted margaritas and fried shrimp with Quistis and Selphie at the fish camp in Balamb. She wanted to wear a bikini under a thrift-store sun dress and gossip and about the boys and other silly things.

She hadn't really thought about this in years, but now she missed the days when things weren't so formal. She missed being surrounded by friends who protected her from the Sorceress-hate and made her laugh when it got to be too much. She'd had some freedom then. There had been a sense of family, even when things were at their worst.

But she'd left that behind, and now her freedom was severely limited by a set of societal rules she wasn't sure she understood. Her only friend now was a wheelchair bound man who was gone three hundred days out of the year.

She wished she could call Quistis and have a nice long chat, just like old times, but Quistis barely remembered her. Just like Squall, it seemed Quistis had forgotten. Selphie remembered, but she was so busy with kids and activities that she rarely returned Rinoa's calls. Ditto Irvine. And that left Zell, with whom she had maintained a long-distance friendship with, but even that was slowly becoming something of the past.

When had she bought into the idea that she was happy? She adored Ian, but the truth was, she was miserable. This house made her miserable when Ian wasn't there, and she couldn't stand the snobs they associated with. The only part of her life that brought her any sort of joy was in the ability to give to people in need.

With a sigh, she got up and checked her appearance one last time before she joined her husband downstairs. With a heavy heart, she got into the limo, plastered on a smile and pretended to be happy.

* * *

Laguna was seated on the front step of the town house when Squall and Lily returned from the grocery store. He was dressed in a suit and tie and grinned broadly as Squall got out of the truck.

"Laguna," Squall greeted. "You should have called."

Laguna never called. He just showed up out of the blue whenever he felt like it. Squall didn't like it, but he'd been forced to accept it as one of Laguna's quirks. Laguna would do whatever Laguna felt like, and there was nothing Squall could do to change it.

"Heya, son," Laguna said. "Lily! You've gotten so tall!"

Lily tucked herself under Squall's arm stared at Laguna as though she couldn't decide if she wanted to hug him or punch him. Squall empathized. Laguna was equal parts maddening and endearing and Squall could never decide how to feel about him either.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Squall said as he unlocked the door.

"I was in town," Laguna said. "Thought I'd pop in and take you guys to dinner."

"Thanks, but we just picked something up," Squall said. "You're welcome to join us."

"No, no, no," Laguna said as he followed Squall inside. "It isn't that often I get to see you guys and it's my treat."

Squall knew better than to argue at this point. When Laguna got it in his head he was going to be generous, nothing would stop him.

Lily dumped the groceries she carried in on the kitchen floor and went outside to get the rest as Squall began to put them away.

"Say yes," Laguna finally said. "Good food, good music, maybe a little dancing, and a chance to catch up. It'll be fun!"

"I suppose," Squall said. "Let me get this stuff put up first."

Lily brought Squall the rest of the bags from the truck and they made short work of putting it away. Lily eyed Laguna in silence. It wasn't that different from the way Squall used to look at the man, before he'd come to terms with the idea that he had a father. That hadn't been easy thing to accept after being alone most of his life, and he still struggled with it from time to time, especially when the man showed up on his doorstep unannounced.

"Lil, why don't you show Laguna your artwork while I go jump in the shower?"

"I guess," she said without enthusiasm.

By the time Squall returned downstairs, scruff trimmed and dressed in a suit, Lily had relaxed. A series of watercolor landscapes were laid out on the coffee table, and a sketchbook was open in Lily's lap.

"These are beautiful, Lily," Laguna said of the paintings.

"...you can have one, if you want."

"I'd love one!" Laguna cried. "I'll hang it in my office so I can show everyone how talented you are."

Squall encouraged Lily's talent as much as he could. He'd already learned, it was an expensive hobby. The cost of quality paints and brushes made a dent in his pocket every few weeks, but it was one of the few things that made Lily happy. Squall was willing to spend money on it if it helped her develop her talent and gave her some enjoyment in her otherwise unhappy life with him.

"Bathroom's all yours," Squall said to Lily. "Go to it, kiddo. Wear something nice. No jeans, please."

Lily collected her works and put them back into a slim black portfolio that Squall had given her for her birthday. He made stilted conversation with Laguna as they waited, and helped himself to a drink to take the edge off his father's overwhelming enthusiasm.

Laguna drove them to a restaurant called Alexander's and raved about the music the whole way there. Squall knew Laguna was a long time fan of jazz music, and though it wasn't to Squall's taste, he tolerated it. It was much better than the canned elevator music other restaurants played, and fan or not, live music had its appeal.

The meal was good, but the conversation was not. Squall tried, but talking to his father about anything besides politics was difficult. They had little to nothing in common. Squall had no interests outside work, and Laguna had far too many to keep track of. Eventually, he gave up and listened to Laguna tell Lily stories about his career as a journalist.

Squall passed on dessert and had a vodka tonic instead, since he wasn't driving and watched the band on stage play an up-beat swing number as couples danced together. Long-ago, he'd taken dance lessons, hadn't he? He hadn't enjoyed the classes but he'd been good at it. The steps and the precise movements had come naturally to him, and he'd approached it the same way he'd approached the rest of his training, through diligent practice.

It was strange to remember something so insignificant. It wasn't important when there were a thousand other details lost to him, many of them far more life-altering than a dance class.

"Looks like fun, eh son?" Laguna asked.

"Not really," he said.

Across the table, Lily bit her lip and flicked her eyes back and forth between Squall and her grandfather.

"Squall?" she said. "Dance with me?"

"... I don't dance, Lil."

"Puhleeeze?" she begged. "Just one dance? Please, please please?"

Squall sighed and got to his feet as he held out his hand for his niece.

"One dance," he agreed. "Then we should go. We have an early start tomorrow."

Lily's smile made him melt. He led her out to the dance floor where Lily spun and twirled as Squall faked the steps he didn't know. Lily didn't notice or care. It had been a long time since he'd seen her look that happy, and he indulged her when she begged for one more dance with him.

The next thing Squall knew, Laguna was beside him with Rinoa Delacroix on his arm. The two of them moved in perfect sync as they worked their way through a fast paced Lindy hop like they'd danced together a thousand times before. They were so good, the dance floor cleared to watch and to give them room.

Where Mrs. Delacroix come from, Squall had no idea. Where his father had learned moves like that, Squall had no idea. It was strange enough that he stopped for a moment to stare, until Lily grabbed his hand and gave it a tug.

When the music changed to a foxtrot, Laguna cut in to dance with Lily and Squall headed back to his seat.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Mrs. Delacroix blocked his retreat, hands on her hips, looking regal and elegant, but also mischievous as she backed him toward the dance floor. Squall fought away panic as she took his hand and dragged him out among the revelers.

"Dance with me," she said.

"Where's your husband?"

She pointed to a table on the other side of the room where Florian Delacroix chatted animatedly with a bald man in an expensive suit. Delacroix seemed uninterested in his wife's whereabouts.

She began to lead him around the dance floor and Squall forgot all the steps he'd once known as well as he knew the alphabet. Caught in a riptide of confusion and embarrassment, he was suddenly seventeen again, tripping over his own feet, half drunk and completely without a clue.

"I know you can dance better than this, Mr. Leonhart," she said.

"What?" he asked, startled at the use of his given name.

"I know who you are," she said with a smile. "Don't worry. You're secret's safe with me."

"How?"

"That is a  _very_  good question," she said. "How do you think I know?"

"Laguna?"

"Good. What else?"

"The scar."

"That too. What else?"

Was there anything else? Why would there be? The game had already grown stale and Squall didn't enjoy being toyed with. What did she want from him? Why was she flirting?

"Seifer?" he guessed.

"Seifer?" she asked, bewildered. "Now that's someone I haven't thought about in a very, very long time."

"So, you do know each other."

"We did," she said. "A long time ago. But, no. Not Seifer."

Squall was really confused. There was a heady, almost desperate expectation in her eyes as she waited for him to figure it out, but Squall was lost. As irritated as he was about the guessing game, he was too intrigued to walk away.

"How do we know each other?" he demanded.

"It was a long time ago," she said.

"You said you fought for Balamb."

"I did."

"Did we know each other?" he asked.

"I'd say we knew each other quite well."

Squall blinked at her and shook his head. Any memory he might have had of her was gone.

"How did we meet?"

She grinned broadly.

"I forced you to dance, of course."

"Forced me to..." Squall began.

" _You're going to like me..."_

She'd stolen his breath away and then left him stranded on the dance floor of the Balamb Garden ballroom under a sky full of fireworks. She'd pestered him and then abandoned him, and he was left intrigued and frustrated as she disappeared into the crowd.

" _You're the best looking guy here."_

"Oh my god..."

"So you do remember."

He remembered all right. Not everything, but he remembered exactly who she was and why she'd mattered and why he didn't want anything to do with her. She was the reason he'd all but erased the past from memory. She was the reason he'd allowed the GF's to feast on his mind to the point of complete erasure and mental breakdown.

He took a step back and swallowed hard as her eyes swam over him. His cheeks burned with embarrassment and his throat tightened as he refused to return her gaze. A thousand fragments of memories pelted him like shrapnel, and it was all too much to deal with at once.

"I need to go."

He turned on his heel and fled the dance floor and bumped into a waiter on his way across the dining room. He did not care that he was making a scene. He just needed to get out of there before he lost it.

It all made sense now. And goddamn it, it still hurt.

As he stepped outside, the old heartbreak came crashing down on him and he was forced to lean against the wall next to the valet stand.

She'd made him love her and then she'd left, and the only way to escape was to forget. And now he couldn't and he felt like he was twenty-two again, watching her pack her things and leave him for good.

* * *

Rinoa stood on the edge of the dance floor, full of regret for what she'd just done She'd thought he might get upset, but she hadn't expected him to react quite the way he did. If she'd punched him in the nose, it would have been less painful to watch. She wanted to follow him out and apologize, but that might only make things worse.

Hyne, she should have just let it go. Either leave him to figure it out on his own or not at all, and now she had to live with the way he looked when he realized there was more to it than just a brief acquaintance on a battle field. It was the same shell-shocked look he'd given her when she said she'd bought a one-way ticket to Timber.

"Rin, where did Squall go?" Laguna asked as Lily twirled herself under his arm.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, Rin, you didn't."

She nodded and bit back her tears as Laguna's worry changed to disappointment.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I didn't mean to upset him."

"I wasn't lying when I said he forgot everything," Laguna said gently.

"Tell him..." she murmured and splayed her hands, unable to articulate her thoughts.

"I will," he said.

She gave Laguna a quick hug goodbye and Lily a kiss on the cheek and returned to her table. She covered her shamefaced guilt with a smile as she rejoined her husband, but he saw right through it. He said nothing about it, since Henry Jensen was still at the table, and still talking a mile a minute as though he'd been invited to join them. Ian couldn't know the atrocity she'd just committed, or who Leo Loire might be to her, but he sensed her upset just the same and clasped her hand under the table. It only made her feel worse.

Why had she done it? Why hadn't she kept her big mouth shut instead of trying to pry it out of him?

On the way home she stared out the window as she wished she could take it all back. Not just reminding him, but all of it. If he'd never fallen for her, nor she for him, she would have never have hurt him the way she had and she would never have to chose between love and duty.

"What's wrong, Noni?" Ian asked. "Did something happen?"

She just shook her head and continued to stare out the window.

"Noni?"

"I'm okay," she lied. "I was just... I had too much wine."

Ian was quiet for a moment.

"Do you want to come to Deling City with me?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I've already made commitments to help with the orphanage fundraiser and the food drive for the shelter."

"You can always back out," he said. "Tell them you're not feeling well."

"Then everyone will assume I'm getting a boob job and talk about me behind my back," she said bitterly. "Thanks, but I'll be fine once I sleep it off."

At home, she dressed for bed and brushed out her hair in front of the vanity mirror. In the mirror's reflection, she saw Ian lift himself out of his chair and pull himself into bed, and for some reason, that made want to cry. She'd seen him do this a hundred times, and she didn't know why it bothered her now.

She climbed into bed beside him and turned out the light, snuggling into him with a tired sigh as his fingers combed through her hair. She pressed her lips to his in the darkness, thinking of how they'd never shared a kiss that made her weak in the knees.

At that thought, she burst into tears.

"Noni, why are you crying?"

"Just the wine," she said.

She tried not to sniffle as she rolled onto her back and ground at her eyes. This was her fault. She was not that stupid, reckless, impulsive girl she'd been when Squall knew her. Yet five minutes with him and she reverted back to old habits.

"I don't believe you," he said. "Something's wrong."

She couldn't and wouldn't admit to him that she needed more. Not after everything he'd done for her or all the kindness he'd shown her. She'd agreed to this, knowing how it would be, and she would just have to deal with it. She could live with chaste kisses and sexless affection.

"What do you need?" he asked. "What can I do?"

"You've done plenty," she promised. "You don't need to do more, Ian."

The gentle press of his lips to her forehead brought on a fresh wave of tears and she wished he would take her in his arms and kiss her the way she so desperately needed to be kissed. But he wouldn't and it would lead nowhere anyhow. She should be content to let him hold her while she slept and content with the life she'd chosen. To feel any different was to be ungrateful for all the other things he brought to their relationship.

"This is you wishing I could be a real husband to you, isn't it?" he asked softly.

She covered her sob with her hand, ashamed that he could read her so easily.

"Yes," she admitted.

He gathered her close and let her cry into his shoulder.

"I wish every day that I could," he said. "You don't know how much I wish I could. Seeing you dance with other people...It hurt that it couldn't be me."

"Were you jealous?" she asked. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No. Well, maybe a little, but not for the reasons you think," he said. "I would have given anything to be in their place."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Noni."

"I'm a horrible person," she bawled.

"You're the best person I know," he promised.

"Considering the people we associate with, that's not such a compliment."

Ian laughed and he kissed her forehead again.

"You know that's not what I meant."

Rinoa nodded and closed her eyes, curling up beside him as exhaustion settled in. She would feel less awful in the morning, so long as she could avoid Squall. If he even came back, that was and she wouldn't blame him if he didn't.

* * *

Squall barely slept that night. He tossed and turned and he couldn't stop thinking about the way Rinoa had so cruelly teased those forgotten memories out of him. He'd barely spoken to either Laguna or Lily on the way home because he didn't know what to say or how to explain his behavior. He suspected Laguna already knew what his silence was about, but Lily had been hurt by it after actually allowing herself to have a good time.

He couldn't remember why Rinoa had left, but he suspected it was his fault. He'd done something to make her leave, and nothing to make her stay. She'd left and she'd never come back, and he had erased her with a near constant junction to too many GF's against Garden's recommendation. And he had forgotten and had paid the price.

What the hell was he going to do? He couldn't afford to lose the Delacroix job, but the last thing he wanted was to see her again. If he hadn't been able to handle thirty seconds, he didn't know how he was going to handle the two weeks it would take to finish the work.

And why hadn't Seifer filled him in? If anything, Seifer should have warned him ahead of time what he was getting into, and it pissed him off that Seifer had only mentioned his own past with her. In hindsight, maybe he'd hinted at more, but it was unlike Seifer to keep something that big a secret.

He looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly time to get up. There was no point in laying there with his thoughts, and he climbed out of bed and got ready for the day. Downstairs, he brewed a pot of coffee and drank most of it while he watched the news to distract him from thoughts of the woman that had broken his heart.

To his surprise, Lily joined him in the kitchen. She was already dressed and looked to be in a much better mood than he was.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Didn't sleep well."

"You're being weird," she said. "Why did you run away from Mrs. Delacroix last night?"

"I'm not being weird," he said as he poured the remaining coffee in his cup and took a sip. "And I didn't run away."

"Yes you did," she said. "You looked like she punched you in the face or something."

"Don't worry about it, Lil," he said. "No big deal."

"Whatever," she said. "Are you going to lose the job now?"

"Don't worry about it," he said again. "I've got it handled."

He sat down to a plate of waffles and began to eat as Lily stared at him. It was a reverse of yesterday in a way, and her scrutiny was intense. He saw all the doubt and worry in her eyes and tried to ignore it.

Before he left, he retrieved his 9mm pistol out of the safe and stuck it in a holster he'd attached to his belt. Typically, he only wore it on night jobs, but since Delacroix had mentioned a possible threat against Rinoa, he figured it was better to be prepared. He didn't think it was strictly necessary, but there was no such thing as too careful.

When he'd first started the business, he'd done a job that had run late, and as he'd gone to his truck, two men had jumped him. They were armed, and he wasn't. Since then, whenever there was the potential for violence, he made sure he was armed, too.

They headed out and repeated the process of loading the truck with the equipment Fujin had left for him. He had Lily check off each item on the inventory sheet as he stacked the dollies to make sure everything was accounted for and then made a list of everything he needed to order.

Lily worked on filing as he sat down at the computer placed his supply order. He copied the invoice and sent it to Seifer so that he could reconcile the funds with their business account. Two minutes later, his phone rang.

"Loire," he said flatly.

"You sound chipper this morning," Seifer said. "Someone take a dump on your toast?"

"Didn't sleep," Squall said. "What's up?"

"Just making sure Fujin dropped off your stuff."

"She did. It's all here," he said. "Need something else?"

"Puberty boy returns," Seifer said. "You need to get laid, son. You'll feel better."

Squall leaned his head against his hand and told Lily to go sweep the store room. He got an eye roll and a "Whatever," but she obeyed, leaving him alone.

"I know a girl," Seifer said. "I can set you up. Guaranteed -"

"No, thanks," Squall cut in. "I just didn't sleep well."

"When was the last time -"

"I'm not discussing this with you."

Seifer's laughter was full of amusement.

"You definitely need to get laid," Seifer said. "But seriously, what's the deal? I haven't heard you this cranky since our cadet days."

"You forgot to mention that I had a bit of history with Rinoa, too."

"Came back to you, did it?"

"...yeah."

"Sorry, man," Seifer said. "I would have said something, but you did such a job on yourself trying to forget her, I didn't want to be the bearer of bad news."

"A little warning would have been nice."

"You freaking out?"

"No."

"Are you gonna freak out?"

"I'll deal with it."

An hour later Squall and Lily had the equipment unloaded and they picked up where they left off the day before. As they neared the end of the day, Squall had some confidence that he wouldn't run into Rinoa. Maybe she was avoiding him, as he hoped to avoid her.

His luck ran out as he closed up for the day. She crossed the lawn, hair in a pony tail and not a trace of make up on her face. She looked like the girl he remembered, not the rich little socialite she'd become. The closer she came, the harder his heart hammered in his chest.

"Squall, do you have a minute?" she asked. "I'd like to talk to you about... things."

He wondered what the point was. What could they have to talk about now? She'd left him and married someone else and their relationship had ended so long ago, it didn't matter any more. He had nothing to say that could make any difference now, so why bother?

"Lily, can you go break down the rest of the boxes?" he asked.

Lily's eyes flicked back and forth between the two adults but she left them, but not without a glance or two over her shoulder as she walked away. Squall dumped his tools back in his bag and stood, hardening his heart as he faced her.

"What is it?"

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't think you'd be so upset..."

"Don't," he said. "We don't need to discuss it."

"I think we do."

"I don't," he said. "We've been done for a long time."

"Squall-"

"Stop," he said and held up his hand. "Just...stop."

"I feel like I need to explain."

"There's nothing to explain," he said. "You left. I let you go. That's it."

He turned away from her and lifted his tool bag into the bed of the truck, ready to be done with this job and done with her. But there would be no forgetting now, would there? He would go home and maybe get drunk and try not to think and wind up thinking about her anyway. He would sit there, wracking his brain for memories that were still lost to him, trying to puzzle out what had gone wrong.

He knew right then that he wasn't over her. He'd merely delayed his grief. Forgetting had been a wasted effort that hadn't helped in the long run.

"Why did you leave?" he asked without turning to face her.

"You don't remember?"

"No."

"Because you let me."

* * *

In a fog, Squall barbecued chicken for dinner and made a salad, then proceeded to get blind drunk on the back porch after Lily went to bed. He passed out on the steps, his head against the wooden hand rail and woke the next morning when Lily poked him awake with her foot. He blinked up at her, still a bit drunk and a lot hungover.

Her big brown eyes stared down at him, more troubled than concerned as she leaned down and took the half empty bottle of vodka from his hand and replaced it with a mug of fresh coffee.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked.

Squall didn't even bother with an answer. He hung his head and rubbed his gritty eyes, unsure whether he wanted to throw up or drink some more.

"What time is it?"

"A little after six," she said.

Lily sat down on the step beside him and tucked herself under his arm. In an uncharacteristic display of affection, she gave him a side hug and leaned into him, her cheek pressed to his chest.

That didn't sit well with him. He was supposed to be the adult and he was supposed to be the one to comfort her, not the other way around.

"Were you out here all night?" she asked.

"Guess so," he said, stifling a yawn.

"Why?"

He just shrugged and took a sip of the coffee. It wasn't as strong as he usually made it, but he wouldn't complain. Lily was out of bed of her own free will and she'd made coffee. That was almost a miracle in itself.

"Thanks, kiddo," he said lifting the cup.

"You look after me, I look after you, right?"

Squall gave her a light pat on the back and struggled to his feet. His back was stiff and there was a kink in his neck. He finished the coffee in one gulp, went upstairs and took a shower. The hot water woke him up but did nothing for the hangover. It showed in the mirror when he got out. He looked and felt like hell.

" _This isn't really working, is it?"_

" _What do you expect me to do, Rinoa? Quit my job? Move to Timber?"_

" _Do you expect me to stop trying to help Timber?"_

" _I never said that."_

" _I can't afford to keep going back and forth, and I'm not wanted here."_

" _Damn it, yes you are. I want you here."_

" _Someone spray painted the word Witch all over my front door! The paparazzi goes through my trash. And last week someone left a bunch of death threats in my mailbox!"_

" _What? You didn't tell me there were threats."_

" _Not to mention, I'm a conflict of interest for you. Cid said so himself."_

" _Rin...you're not...damn it! What do you want me to do?"_

" _You don't have to do anything. This is for the best. For both of us."_

" _So that's it then? You're just gonna give up?"_

" _What other choice do I have? You don't have time for me, it's affecting your job, and I can't be in two places at once."_

" _If that's really what you want... then just go."_

No wonder she'd left him. He hadn't protected her from all the hate, and he hadn't even bothered to fight to keep her there. He'd just given up and let her go and he couldn't even remember why he hadn't begged her to stay. Had it been a matter of pride? Or something else? Try as he might, he couldn't remember, but he had no right to be angry with her. No right at all.

In a fit of anger, he lifted his fist and smashed it into the mirror, obliterating his reflection into a fractal spiderweb. His eyes repeated in the glass over and over as he tried to get a hold of himself.

What did it matter? It was the past, and she was married. He had nothing to offer her, nothing to give, and he doubted he ever would.

He was not a wealthy man, nor was he a man given to show his love through expensive jewelry or extravagant gifts. He could never give her those things, and maybe it really  _was_  for the best that they'd parted. She'd come from money and she'd married money, and that was something he never expected to have much of himself. At least, not in comparison to a man like Florian Delacroix.

He took a deep breath and turned away from the broken mirror and got dressed. He wouldn't have time to stop by the office on his way today, and he dreaded setting foot on the Delacroix property. He went anyway, going through the motions as he installed cameras on the exterior of the house, numb and detached as if she'd broken his heart yesterday. He would get through this, finish this job and never think of her again.

* * *

Rinoa sat in the Solarium, which was decked out for a small luncheon with the ladies on the charity council, going over her plan for the Undie Party. Somehow, she'd allowed the conversation and the idea to be hijacked by one Jackie Dumas, wife of a billionaire with somewhat dubious connections with the mob. What had been a daring, fun idea had turned into something more homogenized and dull, but Rinoa was too distracted to care. Her attention was focused not on the ladies, but on Squall, who was outside working on the camera install.

His hair was tucked under a baseball cap, and sunglasses hid his slate blue eyes, but she would have known him anywhere, just by the way he moved. He worked with purpose, almost hyper-focused and she took a moment to admire the lean but muscular lines of his body.

His company t-shirt was stuck to his skin from sweat and revealed a strong back and a lean waist. His hard, muscular arms were tanned and gleamed with sweat in the sunlight. She couldn't help but remember those arms wrapped around her like he'd never let go. She gave a soft sigh at the memory of how young and in love they'd been. They thought they were invincible. No one could touch them. Nothing could hurt them. Until it had.

"Noni?" Jackie asked. "What are you looking at?"

"What?" Rinoa said. She turned her attention back to the ladies. All three craned their necks to see what had caught Rinoa's attention. "I'm sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Well, well," Jackie said with a predatory smile as she spied Squall. "Where did that come from?"

"Just a tech from the security company," Rinoa said.

"Isn't he a cool drink of water," Lacey Kilroy said. "He'd definitely make me feel secure."

"I certainly wouldn't kick him out of bed," Miranda DeLong said as she fanned herself with her copy of Rinoa's proposal.

Rinoa burst out laughing and for a moment, couldn't stop. She'd forgotten Squall had that effect on women, something he'd never even noticed when they were together. To hear these oh-so prim and proper ladies discuss him like a piece of meat made her want to tell them all who he was to her, but she refrained. The last thing she wanted was more gossip, especially about her past.

"How do you do it, Noni?" Lacey asked with wide eyed sympathy. "Stuck here all alone while Florian's gone? It would drive me mad."

"That's because you're still in love with your husband," Miranda said. "Wait a few years and you'll be begging him to take business trips."

"I imagine in your situation, with poor Florian's condition, you must have a lover," Jackie said. "I mean, we all know he's not able..."

Rinoa's cheeks colored and she shook her head to deny the accusation. It was none of their business and she didn't want to discuss it with any of them. Rinoa was well versed in the philandering and affairs of the rich and powerful, but that didn't mean she was like them. Nor was her personal life or relationship with her husband a subject that needed to be discussed during a planning session for a charity event.

"Look, Jackie," Miranda said with a mean smile. "You've scandalized the poor girl."

"So, what were you saying about the event location?" Rinoa asked to change the subject.

Jackie's smile was almost cruel as she scrutinized Rinoa. Rinoa allowed herself a brief, violent fantasy that involved raking her nails down the sides of the woman's surgically altered face.

"Here, of course," Jackie said. "Of all of us, you have the best ballroom. I mean, that view! It's to die for."

Rinoa hadn't planned on having it anywhere else, but she nodded as though this was the best idea she'd heard so far. All she wanted to do was get out of there. She couldn't stand these gossipy bitches, or their insinuations or assumptions.

Outside, Squall had climbed down the ladder and used the hem of his t-shirt to wipe his brow, revealing his toned abs. She almost sighed again, but she quickly returned her focus on the women around her.

Her original idea now bore no resemblance to the concept she'd come up with, and she didn't even care. It was now a masquerade ball, though Rinoa had no idea how that had anything to do with the cause, but they'd collectively decided the ticket cost would be higher than she'd proposed, so that was a small victory.

In truth, she cared nothing for the parties and events they hosted. They were a means to an end, and she only cared about the money it would raise for her cause. The more money she could contribute, the more she could help, so she let it go without a fight.

They chatted a while longer, mostly about who had plastic surgery and whose husband was banging the maid, and which wife had a secret addiction to pain pills. It was all so stupid and unimportant, and Rinoa drifted away again, watching Squall work.

By the time the ladies left, she was so depressed, she immediately went upstairs, changed out of the frilly silk dress and into a tennis outfit. She grabbed her racket and headed down to the court and batted about a hundred tennis balls with unnecessary force past the net.

"Everything okay, Noni?" Gary asked her from the fence. "You seem kind of worked up."

"Just the usual catty bullshit. I'm fine," she said. But she really wasn't. "How are you doing, Gary?"

"Right as rain," he said. "Just wanted to let you know, the two guys from the security company are here, reporting for duty, if you'd like to meet them."

She'd forgotten Florian had hired extra bodies for patrol. She nodded absently and served another ball down the court.

"I'll bring 'em on over, then," Gary said.

She turned on the automatic tennis ball launcher and and practiced her returns in the same way she had served, with aggressive and forceful strikes that sent half of them sailing outside the lines or over the fence. She didn't care about form or technique. Instead imagined each ball was Jackie's head.

She felt eyes on her and glanced around to see Squall some distance away, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, but without a doubt, watching. Distracted, she didn't see the next ball coming until it struck her square in the chest. She winced and forced herself to return her attention to the activity and hit the next ball hard enough to send it past the fence.

When she glanced back he was gone. Her dismay was short lived as Gary approached with two tall, hard-looking men in dark uniforms, both handsome twenty-somethings that looked like they could take down half the G-Army on their own blindfolded. Eye candy indeed.

"Boys, this is Mrs. Delacroix," Gary said. "She's the Missus, so anything she says goes."

"Nice to meet you," she said politely. "Please, just call me Rinoa."

Jonas was the brunette. Linus the gingery-blonde. Neither were terribly friendly, and she noticed both carried firearms. Neither seemed to want to use her first name.

"You two run along to the control room," Gary said. "Leo will show you the camera system, if you please."

Rinoa watched them go. She didn't know them, and without Florian there to explain what was really going on, she was uneasy about having two armed strangers on the property.

"Those two are about as exciting as televised golf," Gary said.

"They do seem a bit robotic," she said. "Everything okay?"

"All's well," Gary assured her. "Just wanted to pass along a message from Leo. Says he'll be back tonight to test the exterior camera views and not to worry if you see him walking around outside in the dark."

She hoped that meant she would get a chance to talk to him. She didn't want to leave things as they were. It wasn't right to stir up his memories and then leave him on his own to deal with them. She knew how he was. If she were to judge the way he kept his distance, he was not handling it well.

"Thanks Gary," she said. "Have fun with the automatons."

Gary chuckled as he walked away, leaving Rinoa to knock the hell out of a few more tennis balls.

* * *

Lily was not happy about not having to stay behind when Squall went back to work. She sulked through dinner and then sulked when babysitter arrived. Still, he couldn't drag her along this time. He wouldn't be done until late, and he preferred to keep her on a strict sleep schedule. A later bed time would only worsen the problem of getting her to wake up. The last two days were most certainly a fluke, and they would be back to their normal routine as soon as she was allowed back at school.

"I'll see you in the morning, Lil," he said as he pulled on a shoulder holster and slipped his pistol into it. "I want you in bed by ten, okay?"

"Why are you taking your gun?" Lily asked.

"Just in case," he said. "Nothing to worry about."

Lily was skeptical. She frowned as he pulled on a leather jacket and stuck a pair of magazines in his pocket.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek but she turned away from him with a pout.

He arrived at the estate ready to work, but worn out from two nights of lousy sleep. Gary let him in and he went directly to the control room and sat down in front of the monitors, flicking through the images of the exterior and the grounds beyond.

He was looking for images that weren't clear or too dark and any areas that weren't covered. One by one, he went through the feeds and made notes of any issues. Beside him, Gary chattered on about some sports team he enjoyed, but Squall tuned most of it out, too focused on his work to pay attention.

When he yawned, Gary offered to get coffee.

"Please," Squall said, with feeling. "Black is fine."

One of the cameras wasn't working at all, and he wasn't sure why, since he'd just installed and calibrated it the day before. It was the one that covered the hall outside the family wing, and he put it at the top of the list of things to fix immediately. If Rinoa's safety was a concern, that camera was most certainly top priority.

The camera in question was online and functioning normally according to the computer, but he wasn't getting an image. The monitor was connected correctly, but he switched it out with another and got the same result. The problem had to be with the camera.

Gary returned with the coffee and Squall gratefully accepted a mug. He sat back in his chair and took a sip as he watched the night staff move about the house. He couldn't imagine how much work it took to keep such a big house clean, even if most of the rooms went unused. The dusting alone must have taken a couple of days, not to mention all the rest.

He had to wonder, what was the point? Who needed 15 bedrooms? It wasn't as if they had children or a large extended family. Sure, there were a couple of live-in staff members, but that still left 10 unused bedrooms that no one slept in.

It wasn't the little luxuries that bothered him, like the pool and the tennis court, it was the sheer extravagance of so much unused space. He would be uneasy with all those empty rooms where someone could hide.

As he pondered this, the camera in the guest hall went dark. Squall sat up and scanned the monitors to see what had happened. He rewound the feed and a dull sense of alarm welled up in him as his suspicion grew. One camera with an obscured view was one thing. A second was not a coincidence and he doubted it was a system glitch.

He searched for any sign of activity a monitor at a time. A young, dark-haired man mopped the kitchen floor, and a gray haired woman was in the laundry. Squall dismissed these as normal activity and continued to watch, perplexed.

Near the cliff behind the pool, he spotted a figure moving through the shadows. Whoever it was took advantage of the darkness and landscape as though they'd been well trained to use shadows for cover.

"Gary," Squall said, pointing to the screen. "Who is that?"

Gary cocked his head and took a closer look.

"Someone up to no good, I suspect."

The figure moved off camera and Squall scanned the screens to find out where the person was going. He saw them on the poolside camera, skirting along the edges where the view was hidden by shrubbery.

"Definitely up to no good," Gary said. "I'll go check it out."

Squall inserted a magazine into his pistol, just in case. On camera, Gary crossed the back lawn. Squall tracked him, but also kept an eye on the figure in the shadows. The intruder, or whoever it was, lingered by the pool behind some shrubbery like they were waiting for something. Squall zoomed in, but the picture was no clearer than before. He couldn't make anything out in the darkness beyond the pool.

He tensed as Gary came into the second frame and the figure stepped out of the shadows, lifted a gun and fired.


	4. Chapter 4

Squall was on his feet in an instant. He drew his weapon as he headed outside and down the path at full speed until he reached the pool. Like the intruder, he kept to the shadows, calling upon his SeeD training as he crept through the darkness. He found Gary sprawled out face down in the grass, a bullet in his chest and covered in blood. Squall's fingers went to the man's throat and he found a weak pulse, but there wasn't much he could do except give the man a potion until he could get help.

His next thought was of Rinoa, alone in that big, extravagant house where there were too many places someone could hide. His heart started to pound as he left Gary and sprinted toward the door by the pool. It was unlocked.

He moved further inside on silent feet as he cleared the room and then the hall. He wanted to call out to Rinoa, to warn her, but he also didn't want to alert anyone that he was there so he stayed silent, moving a step at a time until he reached the grand foyer.

From above came the sound of breaking glass followed by a girlish shriek. Squall gave up any pretense of silence. His first priority was to make sure Rinoa was safe. He bolted further into the foyer toward the stairs and heard footsteps overhead, moving fast. Bits of a broken vase rained down over the railing and made a musical, tinkling sound as it scattered across the granite floor of the foyer.

The footsteps grew closer, and Rinoa appeared on the second floor landing. She raced down the curve of the grand staircase, wild eyed as a uniformed man chased her. The man lifted his handgun and took aim at her.

Instinct took over and Squall lifted his own weapon and fired first. The bullet ripped through the man's shoulder. He grunted, stumbled and fired on Squall. Squall ducked as the bullet lodged into the wall behind him. Squall took cover behind a large statue of some Centran God he couldn't recall the name of as the man fired a second shot.

"Rinoa, get down," Squall ordered as he craned around the statue to take aim again.

Rinoa shrieked as Squall fired at her pursuer. This time, it hit him square in the chest. Blood sprayed across the carpet and the polished wooden banister. The man struggled to get up, staggered and then tumbled down the steps.

Rinoa backed down the stairs, away from the fallen assailant and shrieky little screams issued from her throat. Her face went pale as the man landed face down at the bottom of the stairs. Squall kept the pistol trained on the man until he was certain he would not be getting up.

"Rinoa," Squall said as he went to her. "Are you hurt?"

"Squall?"

She looked up at him with scared and confused eyes as he helped her to her feet.

"What happened?" Squall asked. "Who was that?"

"He's the security guy," she said with a note of hysteria in her voice, "Linus. He and the other guy, Jonas. They..."

Cold fear cut through Squall's chest, along with a fair amount of anger as he clutched her arms and looked down her terrified, tear streaked face.

"They what?" he asked.

"I think they were trying to kidnap me," she said.

"Where's the other one?"

She swallowed hard and fresh tears trickled down her cheeks. Instinctively, Squall reached out and brushed them away, then snatched his hand back as though her tears burned. For an instant, he'd forgotten that she was no longer his and he took a step back to remind himself of his place. He was the help and they were not friends.

Rinoa blinked at him and sniffled.

"Angel bit him and I knocked him out with a lamp," she said. "He might be dead. I don't know, I didn't stick around to find out."

"Stay here. I'm going to go take care of the other guy," he told her and pressed a set of keys into her hand. "If someone else shows up, I want you to run, okay? Go to the control room, lock yourself in and call the police. Otherwise, stay here."

"Okay," she said, shakily.

Squall found an unconscious man on the floor of the bedroom. He lay in a puddle of blood, and a mean looking Trabian Shephard stood over him. The dog growled at Squall and he froze in his tracks. Angel, he assumed.

"Good dog," he said mildly. "Stand down? Stay?"

To his surprise, the dog sat, licked its lips and stared at Squall placidly. There was blood on its muzzle and pinkish drool at the corners of its mouth.

"Stay," he said more firmly as he edged toward the man on the floor.

The dog obeyed.

Squall dropped down beside the body and felt for a pulse. There wasn't one and Squall's hand came back bloody. He rolled the man over and grimaced. The dog had ripped out the man's throat. It wasn't the worst thing Squall had ever seen, but it was decidedly unpleasant.

The dog thumped its tail on the carpet and gave a soft whine, seeking approval for a job well done.

"Good dog," he said again.

He left the room and joined Rinoa on the stairs. The dog followed him and at the sight of Rinoa, began wagging its tail frantically as though it was a mild mannered Labrador and hadn't just killed a man.

"Come here, girl," Rinoa said. "It's okay."

The dog began to lick her all over the face, seeming to enjoy the taste of her tears. Squall didn't mention the fact that the dog's tongue had probably been coated in her attacker's blood only minutes ago. He needed to focus on what to do next.

"You said they were security?" he asked. "Regulars or an outside company?"

"Ian hired them," she said. "Angel, sit."

The dog obeyed but leaned heavily against Rinoa, as though guarding her from any further danger. Rinoa wrapped an arm around its neck and combed her fingers through the dog's fur.

"What company?"

"I don't know. They started today," she said. "You met them, didn't you? Gary sent them off to find you earlier so you could show them the cameras."

Squall had met no one that day that he hadn't already met.

"They didn't come to me."

He pulled out his phone and dialed the police. He gave them the details and then sat down on the step beside Rinoa, who cried quietly with her arms wrapped around the dog's neck.

"Bet you thought your days of having to come to my rescue were done," she said softly.

Squall looked at her as a vague memory of fighting Iguions came to mind.

"You were always saving me... usually from myself," she said. "And never afraid. Just like now."

Squall wanted to tell her he was afraid of a lot of things. Most of all, remembering. But he didn't. He merely sat there in silence as he tried to sort through the night's events.

"Maybe now's not the time to say this, but... I'm sorry. For leaving the way I did. For hurting you. For giving up," she said. "I'm sorry for all of it."

"You've done well for yourself."

She gave him a dark look and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I didn't marry just for the money, if that's what you're thinking," she said.

"But it was a factor."

Rinoa scowled and opened her mouth to say something, but Squall heard the wails of sirens in the distance and got up. He didn't want her to explain or justify why she was here. It didn't matter.

He held out his hand to reclaim his keys. Rinoa's hand fluttered toward his as though she wanted him to hold it.

"Keys," he said. "I have to open the gate."

"Oh," she said. Her cheeks colored as she handed them over.

Her embarrassment sent a little pang through him that he didn't have time or the will to think about. He clipped the keys to his belt loop and put his gun back in its holster.

"Call your husband, find out what company he contracted," Squall said.

She clutched the dog's neck a little harder and buried her face in the dog's fur. Something in him wanted to drop back down on the step and comfort her, but he didn't. He couldn't allow her, or himself, the option of reigniting that flame, no matter how tempting it might have been.

By the time Squall got to the control room, the police were at the gate, along with paramedics and fire-rescue. He hit the button to open the gate and watched them pull in on screen and then headed back to the foyer to let them in.

The next hour was a blur of questions. Squall patiently and calmly described the events as a tearful Rinoa did the same on the other side of the room. She broke down once or twice, but Squall remained impartial as he spoke to the officers.

Florian Delacroix had called Ironclad Security on Squall's recommendation and had contracted two armed guards to watch over the property. Two dead men matched employee profiles in name only.

The real Linus Bridges was a man in his mid 40's, balding and a former prize fighter with a nasty scar down the left side of his nose. Squall had worked with him several times in the past, and would have recognized him right away. The man on the stairs bore no resemblance to the man Squall had known, not even in passing.

The other, Jonas Landry, was new to the company, and Squall had never met him, but the photo Ironclad faxed over proved the man in the bedroom was also an impostor. The real Jonas had been a short, stocky redhead.

"Where the hell are the real guards?" Squall wondered aloud as he looked at Jonas' photo.

He was tempted to call Ironclad himself and ask a few questions, but that wasn't his job. He had to respect the local police to sort this out, even though instinct and curiosity made him want to pick up the phone and do it himself.

As he walked the house with the lead investigator, he checked the cameras that weren't working. Both had duct tape over the lenses. It was crude but effective and probably would have worked if Squall hadn't been there. Had Gary been there alone, he would have missed the whole thing, only to find Rinoa gone and no footage of the attack or abduction.

"Do you have somewhere to go tonight?" one of the investigators asked Rinoa. "Or someone who can stay here with you?"

"I suppose I could go to a hotel..." she said as she scratched Angel between the ears.

Before Squall could stop himself, he said, "I'll look after her."

* * *

Rinoa didn't feel safe in her husband's big, cavernous mansion, so when Squall said he would look after her, she was relieved. She would be safe with him, no matter where she was. The investigation would go on most of the night, with people in and out of the house, and she knew she wouldn't sleep, but at least someone she trusted would be there.

Except, that wasn't what Squall had in mind. H asked her to pack an overnight bag and drove her to his two-story town house on the other side of the city. Angel lay in the back seat, her head on her paws.

Squall was in SeeD mode as they drove. He asked questions the police hadn't. About Florian's business, his business partners and any possible connections with organized crime. Rinoa told him what she could, but denied Ian had any shady dealings. In her circle, everyone knew who was connected and who was not, and it had never once been said or even implied that Ian was anything but a smart, savvy business man.

"What about you?" he asked. "Any enemies that you know of?"

"Half the world," she said. "At least."

"Explain that," Squall said. "Why would half the world hate you?"

"You don't remember?" she asked.

There was a long pause before he spoke again.

"There are a lot of things I don't remember," he said. "The price of using too many GF's for too long. Erased pretty much everything before age twenty-five."

"Oh, Squall," she said in dismay. "You know what they do to your mind. Why would you do that to yourself?"

"I had my reasons," he said. "Why would you have enemies?"

He had his reasons? Reasons like... herself? She hoped not, but she suspected that was what he meant. Had she hurt him so much he felt like he needed to forget everything to get by?

"I'm a Sorceress," she said. "Lots of people hate me for what I am."

Squall blinked at the windshield then cast her a sidelong glance. "Right. I forgot about that. What about people close to you?"

"I lost touch with most of our old friends," she said. "The only person I'd call close is Ian."

"What about your social circle?"

"They don't like me," she said. "But... I don't think they hate me, either. At least, not enough to do this."

"They know you're a Sorceress?"

"Well, it's not a secret.

Squall steered the car onto a residential street lined with brick town homes. It was a modest, middle class neighborhood. Quaint, but no frills. He pulled the car into a driveway and parked.

"So, maybe a Sorceress Cult," Squall said as he scratched his chin. "Or a hate crime?"

"Maybe," she said. She rubbed her tired eyes. "It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to scare me."

He got out of the car and opened the door for her. He took her bag from her and let Angel out. The dog came to her side, on guard as she sniffed the air for potential threats. Rinoa reached down and scratched her head to put the dog at ease as they headed up the walk to the front door.

He invited her into the living room as he dealt with the babysitter. She was an awkward college-age girl who seemed smitten with him. Squall was totally oblivious to the girl's doe-eyed gaze and her blazing cheeks. For such an observant man, he'd always been unaware of the way women stared.

"How was she tonight?" Squall asked of Lily.

"A little depressed," the sitter said, "but she behaved."

"Depressed?"

"She painted most of the evening, didn't talk much."

"She do her chores?"

"Yes, sir," the sitter said. "And the laundry."

"Good," he said. He handed the girl some cash. "Thanks Maggie. See you next week."

As the sitter left, Rinoa wandered further into the room to inspect the place. The inside was neat, clean and tastefully but simply decorated. There were only a handful of photos in the living room, mostly of Lily, a few of Ellone and Laguna, and only one of Squall himself. In this one, he sat beside a younger, sad eyed Lily on a park bench. In the background, she could see the Deling City skyline.

The rest of the decorations were paintings, mostly store bought reproductions in frames, but there was one original that Rinoa found interesting and she stepped closer to examine it. It was a watercolor of a street in Deling City, and a little crude, almost childlike, but the colors were beautiful and the style exaggerated and unusual.

"Lily painted that for my birthday last year," Squall said as he hung his keys on a peg by the kitchen door.

"Lily did this?" Rinoa asked in surprise. "It's beautiful."

"Art is the only thing in the world she seems to enjoy," Squall said. "You want a drink?"

"What do you have?"

"Orange juice, cola, milk, vodka. Or I could make you some tea."

"Hyne, please give me some vodka," she said. "With orange juice?"

Something that was almost a smile turned up the corners of his lips. His eyes were not quite sympathetic, but certainly understanding as he nodded and went into the small kitchen and filled two glasses with vodka and topped them off with orange juice.

The kitchen, too, was tidy and spotless, and Squall frowned as Angelo wandered in and sniffed the floor and appliances with interest. No doubt, he imagined pet dander coating everything in the room. Dog germs on every surface.

She watched his face as she leaned against the counter and sipped her drink. She didn't get the impression that he was put out with having to protect her, but she did get the feeling he was very, very uncomfortable with her being there. That much was evident in his posture and his lack of eye contact as they stood there in silence.

"Thank you," she finally said. "If you hadn't been there tonight..."

Squall shrugged and downed the rest of his drink in one swallow and poured another. This time, it was straight vodka over ice. He'd been a light drinker in their youth, but it was fair to say he'd had some practice in their years apart.

"You really forgot everything?" she asked. "All of it?"

"Until you reminded me," he said. His eyes turned to the floor. "I don't remember much, but what I do remember is... enough."

That told her everything she needed to know. She had hurt him so much, he now wanted nothing to do with her. The only reason she was here now was because there was no other option and he was still too much of a SeeD to let emotion get in the way of duty.

It was her own fault, and she had to accept that.

"On paper, I know my accomplishments," he said. "What I did. Who everyone thinks I am, but I don't remember details."

He finished his second drink, washed the glass and put it on the rack to dry.

"Forgive me, but I need to get some sleep," he said. "You can use my room."

"I'm not such a snob that I can't sleep on the sofa," she said. "I don't want to put you out."

"It's not out of courtesy," Squall said. "It's strategic. Close to the doors."

"Oh."

Of course it was a strategic decision. Why would she expect otherwise?

She followed him upstairs to the bedroom. The only thing on the walls was his gunblade, shimmering pale blue in the lamplight. On the dresser were two framed photos. One of Edea, Ellone and Squall as a boy, the other of his mother. The rest of the room was left plain, the walls a stark white, but the bed was made with a basic gray duvet and matching pillows.

"The bathroom is next door," Squall said. "On the left."

"Thank you," she said. "Really. For everything."

"No problem," he said. "And, please, don't let the dog on the bed."

Such a Squall thing to say. He hadn't been fond of Angelo on the bed, either, though that had been a difficult habit to break, even with the plush, oversized dog bed Squall had gotten as a compromise. Fortunately for Squall, Angel didn't yet seem to know what a bed was.

"You haven't changed at all," she said.

He shrugged, his eyes on the floor.

"I wouldn't know."

* * *

Squall settled into the sofa, wrapped himself in a blanket and let his eyes close, but as exhausted as he was, he couldn't seem to fall asleep. Between three sleepless nights in a row and the vodka in his system, he should have drifted off as soon as his head hit the pillow, but his brain wouldn't shut down. Over the years, he'd seen enough death and violence that the night's events didn't have much of an impact on him. That wasn't what kept him awake, it was thoughts of the woman upstairs.

The only person he'd ever loved outside of his family was in his bed, and he was there on the sofa unsure of how he was supposed to feel about that. Feelings that hadn't gone away over time made it worse, even though the details of their relationship were still hazy. All he really knew was that he had loved her deeply and desperately and with a kind of passion he couldn't seem to muster in the years since.

When his phone rang, he almost silenced it, but saw the call was from Florian Delacroix and he answered, trying to keep the weariness out of his voice.

"Loire," he said.

"Or is it Leonhart?" Delacroix asked by way of greeting.

"I apologize for the deception," Squall said. "The alias is for practical reasons."

"I understand," Delacroix said. "I believe I'd do the same in your shoes. How is my wife?"

"A little shaken up," Squall said. "She's safe for the time being."

"I appreciate what you've done for us," Delacroix said. "I don't even want to imagine what might have happened if you weren't there."

Squall didn't have anything to say to that. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Well, first, I wanted to let you know, I just got a call from the investigator about the Ironclad agents," Delacroix said. "They were found dead, in a van, in the desert near D-district about 30 minutes ago. The two in my home have yet to be identified. Last time we spoke, you mentioned SeeD. I'd like you to get me in touch with Commander Trepe. Obviously, cost won't be a concern."

"Of course," Squall said. "I'll give you a direct number. Mention my name, and they'll expedite whatever you need. You have a pen?"

Squall gave him the number and hoped this conversation was now at an end. He hadn't planned on going to work in the morning, but now it seemed he would have to in order to secure the house enough for Rinoa to return. And in order to do that, he would have to sleep.

"Thank you, Mr. Leonhart."

"I prefer Leo, Mr. Delacroix."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

"You and my wife were close once, were you not?"

"A long time ago," Squall said. "Why do you ask?"

"With Gary out of commission, I'm in need of a head of security my wife trusts, and being that she is there alone more often than not, it's imperative that my wife is comfortable with the person in charge of her safety. She still trusts you. Very much, and especially now. I'd like to offer you the position."

"I appreciate the offer, but..."

Delacroix cut him off.

"I understand you have a business to run, and I'm more than prepared to double whatever you earn from that business. Plus bonus."

Squall made a decent, if not yet comfortable living doing what he was doing, but the offer was tempting. However, he had worked hard to build his business, and leaving it now, even temporarily, was almost unthinkable.

"Again, I appreciate -"

"Listen, you must understand something," Delacroix cut in. "I respect Noni very much. She's the only one who looked past the wheelchair and the money and saw me for who I was. She stuck by me even though our marriage is not what anyone would call traditional, and I adore her for that. Her safety is my first priority and I need someone there who not only can protect her, but  _cares_  that she is protected."

"What makes you think I still care?" Squall asked, wary.

"Because a man in his right mind would never stop caring about a woman like her," Delacroix said.

"Are you insinuating-"

"Nothing of the sort," Delacroix said, cutting him off a third time. Squall did not like being talked over and he gritted his teeth as the man continued. "Part of you must still feel something. Enough to want to ensure nothing bad happens to her."

This was emotional blackmail. Squall wanted to call him on it, and tell him to go to hell, but he didn't because Delacroix was right. There was a part of him that needed to protect her, against all logic, and walking away no longer felt like a reasonable option.

"Please," Delacroix said. "I wouldn't ask if I had an alternative."

"Your head of security is a live-in position," Squall said. "I have a kid."

"And I have plenty of room," Delacroix said. "Noni might even benefit from having a child around, should we decide to adopt in the future."

Lily had a tendency to latch onto any woman that showed her kindness. Squall didn't want her to get too attached to someone that was only temporary, and instinct told him she and Rinoa would get along famously if he let them. Lily had already had enough heartbreak. He didn't want her to get too used to it, only to have to leave Rinoa behind at the end of all this.

Squall tried to think of a really good reason to say no, something Delacroix couldn't counter with offers of money or salt poured into unhealed wounds. He came up with nothing. It wasn't like he couldn't use the extra pay. Lily would need art lessons and eventually college. It was money he could sock away for her future. So long as this wasn't a permanent thing, he could suffer through it.

"Temporary only," Squall said. "Until you find someone permanent. No uniform, and I'll need a few hours a day in the morning to manage my business without interruption unless there's an emergency. Also, I'll need to be free to go to Lily's school functions and teacher conferences."

"Certainly," Delacroix said. "If you'll agree to handle the hiring and training for your replacement. And, of course, I would expect you to finish the security upgrade. As soon as possible. There's a generous bonus in it if you can finish it ahead of schedule."

"It's a deal," Squall said.

But he was uneasy about it. He was already conflicted about having Rinoa in his home. How much worse would it be with her in such close proximity all the time?

"Excellent. I'll call Noni in the morning and have her get you set up when you return to the house," Delacroix said.

Squall wondered why the man wasn't coming home after such a traumatic event for his wife, but Squall kept that thought to himself. For all Delacroix's supposed adoration, it didn't sound like he would be there to comfort Rinoa in her time of need.

As soon as he hung up the phone, he called Seifer. It took two tries to get him to pick up, and when he did, he wasn't happy.

"Why the fuck are you calling at this hour, Leonhart?" Seifer slurred. He sounded drunk.

"Something's come up. I need Raijin and Preston here as soon as possible," Squall said.

Preston was a part-time installer they'd hired to help out when the workload became too great for them to handle. He was a smart kid, and good with electronics, and Squall thought eventually, as the business grew, they'd bring him on full-time if he was interested.

"A job?"

Squall gave him an abbreviated version of the night's events and his subsequent agreement to step in for the time being.

"Oh, man. You've gotten yourself sucked into a world of shit," Seifer said, laughing. "Why the hell did you say yes?"

"Couldn't say no."

"Sure you could," Seifer said. "It's easy. Just open your mouth and make your lips form the letters N and O."

"You wouldn't have said no, either," Squall said. "He offered me double our monthly income. Plus bonus."

"That puts a different spin on it," Seifer said. "You gonna be able to handle it?"

"Of course I can handle it," Squall said.

"I don't mean the job," Seifer said shrewdly. "I mean being in that house with the love of your life, all the time, with no adult supervision. I mean, the husband's basically eunuch and he's never there, so she's got to be lonely. That's a recipe for some really hot and dirty sex, Leonhart."

"Do you always think in terms of getting laid?"

"Of course," Seifer said. "Don't you?"

"Furthest thing from my mind right now."

"Liar," Seifer snorted. "I know if it was me, I wouldn't be able to keep my hands to myself."

"Thank Hyne I'm not you."

Seifer's derisive chuckle made Squall want to hang up on him.

"Still living like a monk. You're pathetic," Seifer said. "But my money's on lonely little Mrs. Delacroix making a move, and you getting sucked right back into her web like the obedient little Knight you are."

"The hell are you talking about?"

"Read a history book sometime, will you?" Seifer said. "You're the one that made yourself forget. If you wanna rehash all that, be my guest, but quit asking stupid fucking questions you can answer yourself."

"Then stop talking about shit you know I don't remember if you don't feel like explaining yourself."

"Fine. Not another word," Seifer said. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Preston and Rajin. Are they available?"

"They'll be there tomorrow night."

"Good enough."

Now completely unable to sleep, Squall got up and turned on the light. He gave his eyes a moment to adjust and then went to the bookshelf to retrieve a thick volume about the war that Laguna had given him a few years ago as a gift. He'd never even looked at it, though he knew Lily had thumbed through it a time or two to look at the pictures.

He took it off the shelf and opened it to a random page. A photo of the six of them together filled most of the page. Hyne, had they ever been so young? He hadn't felt young back then, but seeing his clean baby face and shorter hair made him realize just how young he'd been. He looked like a kid. In those days, he'd still had some innocence left, though he hadn't known it until Rinoa came along.

In the photo, his arm was around Rinoa's shoulders and he looked happier than he could ever recall being. His smile in the photo was foreign to him and it made him look like a totally different person. Beside him, Rinoa's big grin and smiling eyes made him recall how she used to smile at him that way.

He flipped to another random page, this one a passage about the conflict between Galbadia and Garden in regards to Rinoa's presence in Balamb. He scanned it quickly and then closed the book, unable to read any more. Whatever insinuations Seifer had made, Squall wasn't ready for the truth. Already, there had been too much information dumped on him in a short period of time and he wasn't handling what little he did know very well.

He sat the book on the coffee table and leaned back, putting his hands over his face with a soft groan. A glance at the clock told him it was already 4 AM, and he would have to get up in an hour. There was no point in even trying to go back to sleep. He got up, made coffee and sat in the kitchen with a laptop in front of him and began researching possible reasons Rinoa had been attacked.

As he finished his second cup of coffee, Rinoa wandered into the kitchen, her brown eyes tired but curious.

"You didn't sleep?" she asked.

"Couldn't," he admitted.

"Me neither," she said. "Every time I closed my eyes..."

"Help yourself to the coffee. Mugs are in the cabinet above."

On the laptop, he clicked a link that led to a website of a group called the Witch Hunters that were actively recruiting members. He read through their propaganda as Rinoa poured herself a cup. They were an active Anti-Sorceress group that also hated those with "gifts" like Ellone's. They were outspoken about their belief that any and all persons with Hyne's burdens should be destroyed and their remains sealed for all time to prevent the spread of what they considered a disease. That site led to a dozen others like it, all with ridiculous names and outrageous claims about how Sorcery was a pollutant and a blight on the world.

"Am I interrupting?" she asked.

"I was just looking into why last night might have happened," he said. "Anti-Sorceress groups and such."

"I've had a few run-ins over the years," she said. "They're mostly talk. Non-violent, but they sure like to make it sound like I'm a soul sucking vortex of evil."

Squall almost smiled at that. If he were to sum up what was on those websites, she'd nailed it.

"I should be used to it, you know?" she said. "It's been something I've had to deal with ever since the war. People that know me aren't necessarily afraid, but they don't trust me, either. And those that don't know me either fear me or hate me. Or both."

"Do they have a good reason to be afraid?" he asked.

"Most days, I don't think so," she said. "But there's always the chance, you know? Of something like Adel's Tomb happening again, or me going crazy because I have too much power. But I've got a handle on it. I barely even use magic anymore. I haven't had much of a reason for almost ten years."

The mention of Adel's Tomb reminded him of how he'd jumped out of the space station airlock to go after her. He hadn't even done it because he wanted to save her, but because he couldn't stand the idea of her dying alone out there. He'd known it was suicide and he'd done it anyway. Up until then, he'd told himself he protected her only because of their contract, but it was a point of no return as far as his real feelings went. The SeeD in him said she was a lost cause. His heart agreed, but still he'd jumped.

The memory would have brought him to his knees if he'd been standing. It left him breathless to know just how  _much_  he'd loved her. It hadn't just been puppy love or a stupid crush, but real enough to be willing to die for it. He pressed a hand to his face and tried to collect himself after being broadsided by the intensity of such a memory, and he suddenly understood why Seifer didn't like talking about his part in the war. It hurt too much.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he lied. "Tired."

"So what happens now?" she asked.

Squall told her about the conversation he'd had with her husband the night before, and if he wasn't mistaken, this news was not exactly unwelcome. If anything, she looked delighted.

"I'm sure he'll share all this with you later, but he's hiring SeeD to help investigate and patrol, and I'll be handling the hiring and training of a new security staff," he said. "I know a few people who might be interested so it shouldn't take long. In the meantime, I've got some extra hands on the way to help me get the technical security up and running."

"Sounds like you're going to be busy," she said. "I can help you look after Lily if you want. It's the least I can do."

"Thanks, but... I don't want her to be in your way."

"She wouldn't be. Plus, I can put her to work," Rinoa said with a hint of a smile, "helping me organize the clothing drive."

"She'd probably like that," Squall admitted.

He sat back in his chair and took a sip of coffee, not looking at her, but unable to help his curiosity.

"Are you happy, Rin?"

"Do you mean in general or...?"

He didn't really know what he was asking so he just shrugged.

"Mostly," she said. "But... nobody's happy all the time."

Who indeed? Zell and Selphie were the only two people Squall knew who existed in a perpetual state of happiness, as if there was something in their DNA that made them incapable of being unhappy for more than five minutes. He envied them that. It must be bliss to find joy in everything. He might have included his father in that list, but Squall knew better. Laguna was just really good at faking it.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I don't really think about it."

"I'll take that as a no," she said. "Why not?"

Squall just shook his head. He didn't know how to answer that question.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Work keeps me busy."

"Don't you get lonely?" she asked.

"Don't you?" he countered as he met her eyes across the table.

"All the time. Florian's gone a lot and we don't... our relationship is based on friendship and mutual respect... I mean... it's not..."

Her blush made him wonder about Seifer's earlier statement about Delacroix being a eunuch. Seifer couldn't have meant it literally. Could he?

"Yes," she said, collecting herself with a sigh. "I get lonely."

There was a long and uncomfortable silence between them, the air thick with tension and Squall got up and made breakfast because he didn't want to keep talking about personal things. It hurt too much.

* * *

They returned to the house aroundeight to find officers still investigating the scene. Rinoa heard right away from the staff that Gary was going to live, but he had a long recovery ahead of him. The bullet had pierced his lung and he would be on a ventilator for a while. She felt guilty and grateful at the same time. Grateful that he would live, but guilty he'd been wounded because of her.

Squall abandoned Rinoa at the door to speak with the investigation team, so Rinoa took Lily to guest cottage at the back of the house and showed off their new, temporary home. While she would have preferred they stay in the house, she thought perhaps Squall would like a bit more privacy. It was actually closer to the family wing than the guest bedrooms, and Squall could respond to an emergency quickly, but it was separate enough that he would still feel removed from the rest of the house.

The cottage was a quaint little two bedroom affair that opened up at the back to a spectacular view of the ocean and had access to the pool and the main house. It had a small kitchen that Rinoa had never understood the point of, since any and all guests who had ever used the cottage had taken their meals in the main house. She doubted the oven had ever been turned on.

The living room was cozy, decorated in shades of cream and sand, and it featured a television big enough to be seen from the space station. If Rinoa had her way, she would have chosen to live there instead of the cavernous museum of a house that had never quite felt like a home. It was luxurious but comfortable, and it felt much more homey than any other place on the estate.

"Wow," Lily said as she set down her bag to go to the deck that overlooked the ocean. "This is awesome."

"Best view on the property," Rinoa said. "Your room faces the ocean, too."

"Can I see it?"

Lily gasped in delight over the bedroom, which had been decorated with whitewashed furniture and fabrics that matched the colors of the ocean beyond the window. Landscapes of beaches and angry waves done in oil hung on the walls and Lily exclaimed in appreciation over each one. Rinoa hid a smile behind her hand as the girl stepped onto the small patio facing the sea.

"Holy crap, this is cool!"

"Like it?"

"I love it," Lily said with feeling.

"Why don't I help you put your things away and then we can go sit by the pool and be lazy all day?"

Lily was all for the idea. She stuffed things in drawers with no regard for organization. It would make Squall crazy to see the girl stuff shorts into the same drawer as her t-shirts. She imagined he would conduct random inspections to ensure everything was in order and would have her remove and re-fold every item that wasn't up to standard.

That thought made her giggle. Lily looked at her archly but curious.

"You should probably sort the drawers by type of clothing," Rinoa suggested. "Otherwise, your uncle is going to flip."

"You really do know him, huh?"

"I used to," Rinoa said.

"I have pictures of you," Lily said. "In my mom's photo albums. You were his girlfriend, weren't you?"

"I was."

"How come you're not anymore?"

"I guess it just wasn't meant to be," she said. She didn't want to get into the details. Not with a nine-year-old. "Come on. Let's get this stuff put away correctly so we can go swimming."

Lily eyed her like she knew Rinoa was avoiding the subject, and she half expected the girl to continue with her questions, but she let it go and organized her drawers in a way that would be more pleasing to Squall's neat-freak asthetics.

As they returned to the main house, she remembered that her room was a crime scene. She didn't want to go in there and she stood in the foyer, wondering what to do. She certainly couldn't sleep in there. Not after everything that had happened. A man died on her bedroom floor, and the idea of going back inside was terrifying.

She went off in search of Marilee. She would send the girl in for her things and Rinoa would move into a different room, maybe permanently. Ian would just have to understand.

"Have you seen Marilee?" Rinoa asked in the kitchens.

Nobody had seen her, so she sought out the rest of the housekeeping staff one by one ,but no one had seen Marilee since the day before. None of them could recall what time she'd left the house.

Rinoa went to the library and looked up the phone number for Marilee's mother, with whom she lived, worried that something had happened. Marilee was prompt, never called in sick and had never just decided to not come to work. She was a single mother with a young daughter to support, and she needed every gil she could get.

"I thought she stayed over last night," Marilee's mother said. "She didn't come home."

Instances of Marilee staying overnight were rare, but they happened from time to time. Last night was not one of those times.

"Well, now I'm really worried," Rinoa said. "She isn't here."

"Maybe she stayed with her boyfriend," her mother said. "Overslept."

"I hope so," Rinoa said. "You have her call me the minute she gets in, okay? Tell her I'm not upset, just very worried about her."

Rinoa had a couple of the housekeepers move her belongings into a room down the hall while she went to find Squall. She left Lily beside the pool with strict instructions to wait for her to get in.

Squall was busy installing an alarm panel on the front door and looked up as she approached, not irritated exactly, but not happy about the disruption.

"This might be nothing," Rinoa said, "but one of my maids didn't show up for work today."

"Think last night scared her off?"

"Maybe," Rinoa conceded, "but I thought I should let you know. It's not like her to ditch work."

"I'll look into it," he said.

"Thanks."

He returned his attention to the alarm panel, unconcerned. If he wasn't concerned, she wouldn't be either. There was no sense worrying too much when it could be just as Marilee's mother said: she'd stayed with her boyfriend and had overslept.

Rinoa didn't see Squall for the rest of the day. She and Lily lay beside the pool and soaked up some sunshine. Lily talked about her art teacher and school, and how unhappy she was in Dollet. Rinoa empathized. School had not been her favorite place when she was Lily's age either.

"Do you like living with Squall?" Rinoa asked.

"Sometimes," Lily said. "We used to do more stuff together when we lived in Deling City. He was more fun and now he's busy..."

"What about friends from school?"

"...they don't like me."

"Maybe they just don't know you," Rinoa said.

Lily shrugged with one shoulder and sipped her glass of fruit punch.

"I got suspended," Lily said. "For fighting. That's why I came to work with Squall. He's kinda mad at me."

"I'm sure he isn't," Rinoa said.

"I just feel like... I'm in the way sometimes," Lily said. "Like, he'd have a girlfriend and he'd be happy if he didn't have to look after me."

"Oh, Lily," Rinoa said. "He probably wouldn't. He'd just work more."

Lily smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah, that's probably true."

Rinoa kept a look out for any sign of Squall on the grounds, but he was too busy with the cops and the staff to wander outside so he could stare at her in her bikini. She was dismayed by her own hopeful, teen girl behavior. In light of everything that had happened, she had no right to expect his attention.

When he didn't join them for dinner, Rinoa had the kitchen make him a plate and she personally delivered it to the control room. He looked exhausted, yet focused as he worked on a switchboard panel on the wall. Between his teeth, he held a small flashlight in his mouth. A pair of protective glasses with a small magnifying glass on one lens perched on his nose. It was adorably dorky, and she hid a smile behind her hand as he glanced up at her.

"Brought you something to eat," she said.

"Thanks," he said around the flashlight. "Just set it down and I'll eat later."

"Squall. Have you eaten anything since breakfast?"

"No," he said. "Wanted to get this done."

"Promise me, you're going to eat."

"I will," he said. "By the way, SeeD should be arriving in the next hour or so. I don't know who they sent, but I'll let you know when they get here."

"Any word about Marilee?" she asked.

"Refresh my memory?"

"My maid."

"Nothing yet."

She watched him for a minute. He was going to work himself to death if he didn't slow down and take a break from time to time. She reached out and put a hand against his arm, but he flinched away from her touch. His flinty eyes flashed with warning as they came up to meet hers. It was a silent reprimand to keep her distance.

"Please, Rin," he said with cold, exaggerated patience. "Let me work."

"Okay," she said. "I'll leave you alone."

As soon as she was outside, her eyes started to burn with unshed tears.

What was she doing?

* * *

As Rinoa left the office, Squall took a deep breath and braced himself against the wall, his face to the floor. Something as simple as a supportive hand against his arm had sent him into a panic spiral, yet what came to mind was a long ago moment of fierce, unrestrained  _love_  that left him shaking in the wake of its forceful intrusion.

He shuddered and tried to shake it off, but his hands trembled as he attempted to continue the intricate work before him.

Seifer's prediction came back to haunt him. His words bounced around inside his head and lurked in all the dark corners of his mind. They were phantasms that mocked him from the shadows and laughed at his insecurity. Try as he might, he couldn't banish them from the space around him.

He could still feel the grip of her fingers around his bicep, a heavy pressure that his mind rejected and his body craved more of. She was the spider, Squall the fly, and a part of him knew, he was already caught in her web. The harder he fought it, the more entangled he would become.

Damn Seifer for saying it. And damn her, for having such power over him that one innocent touch was all it took to smother him.

In irritation, he threw down his screwdriver and ripped off the glasses to toss them onto the desk. He knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate now.

On the monitor, he caught sight of Rinoa beside the pool with her face in her hands and had to look away. He didn't want to see it. Not seeing it absolved him of his responsibility. His he abruptness was the reason for her tears, but he didn't have a choice but to be anything but professional and distant. She did not belong to him anymore. They'd made their choices, and they'd said their goodbyes. Whatever mistakes they'd both made could not be rectified now.

At least, that's what he told himself, all the while knowing that unless she also kept her distance, his resistance could crumble with the simplest of gestures. A smile. A friendly word. An innocent touch. He was doomed to fall for her again if he didn't get a hold on himself.

The ring of his phone was a welcome distraction.

"Raijin and Preston just checked into the hotel. They'll be there early tomorrow," Seifer said.

"Can't come soon enough," Squall said. "Damn you, Almasy. Why did you have to open your big mouth? Couldn't you have just kept it to yourself?"

"Shit. Are you having a meltdown?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then you'll really appreciate the gift I sent along with Raijin," Seifer said.

"Let me guess... a blow up doll?"

"Damn," Seifer said with a laugh. "That's even better. Why didn't I think of that?"

"You're an idiot."

"And you can't fight it, so just give in already and save yourself all the agony and suffering and pretending like you're some sort of puritan," Seifer said. "You're not a goddamn saint, Leonhart."

"I have principals, unlike you."

"Fuck your principals."

"Fuck yourself."

Seifer laughed, but then sobered after a moment.

"I really don't envy you," Seifer said. "But, for what it's worth, I get it."

"Get what?"

"Let me put it to you this way," Seifer said. "If Ultimecia came back right now, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from doing whatever the hell she wanted me to do. You're in the same boat, my friend and I don't envy you that one bit."


	5. Chapter 5

Squall sat at the control room desk, head in hand. He hadn't meant to make Rinoa cry. He'd only wanted to be left alone, not the reason she was now crying her eyes out beside the pool.

The buzz of the intercom interrupted his guilt-fest. On the monitor, a dark colored vehicle waited outside the front gate. Squall zoomed in on the front plate. It bore the name of a local rental company and a registration number, which he jotted down for reference. The rest of the car was nondescript with no embellishments.

It was just the sort of vehicle SeeD typically rented or leased for missions like this one. The cavalry had arrived.

"State your business," he said into the intercom.

"SeeD, requested by Florian Delacroix. Reporting for duty," a familiar voice said.

"Names?" Squall asked.

"Dincht, Akon, and Damius."

"Zell?"

"Squall? Is that you?"

"Yeah. It's me," Squall said. "Follow the driveway to the side of the house. I'll meet you there."

When Squall met the team outside, Zell swept him up in a rib-crushing buddy hug. It hurt like hell, but Squall accepted the overly friendly embrace and offered a pat on the back in return. It had been at least a year since they'd last seen one another, but Zell never changed.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Zell asked with a sunny grin. "Not that I'm complaining..."

"Long story," Squall said. "You the Squad Captain?"

"Yep," Zell said. "I'll mostly be working the investigation, these two will be on patrol."

"How'd you wind up on this?" Squall asked. "I thought Quistis had you on soft duty."

"Volunteered," Zell said. "When I heard it was for Rin, I couldn't say no."

Squall gave a quick tour of the grounds, and then sent Akon and Damius of to patrol while he briefed Zell on the situation. They sat in the control room, where the active monitors displayed nothing but the night staff going about their nightly chores.

"We'll have copies of the police reports in the morning," Squall said. "In the meantime, I already started researching hate groups and cults for you. Here's what I've got so far."

Squall passed him a folder full of the information he'd managed to dig up, along with notes on his discussions with Rinoa and a few of the staff he'd questioned. There wasn't much, but it was enough to get Zell started.

"We'll get you guys set up in the house," Squall said. "I'd prefer it if you had your team patrol primarily at night. Dayside, I'll be around for the most part. I still have to get the system running and interview Gary's replacement."

"Sure thing, boss," Zell said. "Kinda feels like old times, you giving me orders and stuff."

"Sorry," Squall said. "It's been a long, stressful couple of days."

"Naw, it's cool," Zell said. "I kinda missed it."

Zell shifted in his chair, and his knee began to bounce. It was an old habit that was all too familiar for reasons Squall couldn't quite recall. One of a hundred little details that were unimportant, yet felt bigger for their mystery.

"So...are you and Rin okay?" Zell asked. "You know, after everything?"

"It's fine," Squall said. "Just here to do a job, and once it's done, I'm out."

Zell's frown deepened and he stared at Squall unflinchingly as his fingers flicked the edge of the file folder in his hands.

"I never really understood what happened between you two," Zell said. "You guys had, like, some crazy fairy tale happy-ever-after thing, and then it just... ended."

"Don't know," Squall said. "And, I don't want to discuss it."

Zell's pity for Squall was written all over his tattooed face, but he dropped the subject and opened the file to thumb through the contents. Squall didn't much like being an object of pity, especially when he didn't fully grasp why he should be pitied. If their relationship had been a fairy tale, Squall did not remember it. The only clear memory he had of Rinoa was the way she'd left.

"Mr. Delacroix around?" Zell asked. He closed the file and set it aside. "I already have questions for him."

"He's in Deling City," Squall said. "Won't be back for a couple of weeks."

"His wife gets attacked and he stays gone?" Zell asked. "Doesn't that seem suspicious?"

"I'd say it was, but he seems to care about her," Squall said. "I don't think he's a suspect."

"Right now, everyone's a suspect," Zell said. "Even you."

Had the shoe been on the other foot, Squall would have said the same, so he wasn't sure why he was surprised Zell considered him a suspect. After all, Squall had been here when it happened, and he was the only witness to Gary's shooting. Ironclad Security had been hired on his recommendation. The deck was stacked against him when he put it into perspective, and he couldn't blame Zell for that.

"Fair enough," Squall said. "I'll answer whatever you've got in the morning, after I get some sleep, and once you've had a chance to read over all the reports."

"Sorry I have to be that way," Zell said. "You know I don't think you had anything to do with it."

"I understand," Squall said. "You have to consider every possible angle. I get it."

"Cool," Zell said. "Thanks."

"Let me show you how the system works," Squall said.

Squall walked Zell through the basic functions, and wasn't surprised when the tattooed man picked up on it without a problem. There was a reason he'd been Squall's first choice as a business partner.

Zell had visied the estate before, but Squall gave an in-depth tour anyway so that Zell was comfortable with the layout and locations of access points and areas that hadn't been entirely secured by the new system. By the time he was done, Squall was dead on his feet.

"Hate to cut it short, but I really need to get some sleep," Squall said. He passed Zell a spare set of keys. "Head housekeeper will show you to your room when you're ready. Feel free to use the control room as you see fit. Just clean up after yourself, please."

"Sure thing, boss," Zell said. "See you in the morning."

Squall hadn't been inside his new, temporary home yet, but he was glad it was not part of the main house. He appreciated the small shred of privacy, even if it was only on the surface.

Inside, Rinoa and Lily were on the couch watching a romantic comedy on an unreasonably large television. Lily was in her pajamas, and Rinoa had wrapped them both in a knitted blanket. Lily leaned against Rinoa's side, content and comfortable to be cuddled by a woman who was almost a stranger.

Neither had heard him come in, and he stood there conflicted about what he should feel. Lily, so desperate for an older female friend or role model, had already latched on. He wanted to discourage it for Lily's sake. They would not stay any longer than necessary, and the less attached Lily was, the easier it would be for her when this was over.

Rinoa's profile against the dim lamplight stopped him in his tracks.

Hyne, how could he have forgotten how effortlessly beautiful she was? There wasn't even a trace of make-up on her face and she still stole his breath away.

It hurt to look too long. He wasn't a smitten schoolboy any more.

"Lil, bed in thirty minutes," he called into the living room as he pulled off his boots.

"I know," she called back. "Movie's almost over."

Squall moved into the bedroom, undressed and jumped in the shower. The warm water only compounded his exhaustion and he leaned heavily against the wall, letting his eyes close as the luxurious shower heads massaged the muscles of his tired back. He stayed there for a while and tried to get his emotions under control.

Dried and dressed, Squall shambled back into the living room in time to see the credits roll. Rinoa pushed to her feet and offered a smile that triggered a response in his gut that he didn't understand.

"There are two SeeDs outside patrolling," Squall said. "They'll stick to the grounds for the most part, but they'll also do a sweep of the house from time to time. Zell may be in and out, too."

Rinoa's face brightened. "Zell's here?"

"I know you two are friends, but don't forget, he's working," Squall said. "Try not to distract him too much."

"That'll be tough," she said. "He's the only one of you that still keeps in touch and we don't get to see each other very often."

Squall got the impression that she was exceptionally lonely here. Not just a little lonely, but a lot. She cast her eyes downward and poked at the carpet with her toe.

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded," she said.

"You don't have to explain," he said. "Lily, go brush your teeth."

"I should go," Rinoa said. "Let you two get settled in."

"If anything seems weird," Squall said, "anything at all, you make sure you call me. I'll check it out."

"SeeD's here, right?" she asked. "Everything should be fine."

She reached for the door and for just a second, he saw her at 21, walking out of his life with a suitcase in hand. He hadn't stopped her. What would have happened if he'd had the guts to reach out to her as she opened the door? What if he'd pulled her back into his arms and begged her to stay? Would they have found a way to make it work if he'd tried harder?

"I don't know," she said now, as her hand wrapped around the doorknob. "I don't know if we would have worked."

Had he said it out loud? He took a step back as his cheeks colored with past and present shame.

"I didn't mean to say that," he said.

"You didn't," she whispered, "but I heard it anyway."

Without turning around, she opened the door and stepped out into the night. Squall was so shaken by that split-second mind-share, he sat down on the floor and couldn't find the strength to get back up.

* * *

Rinoa returned to her room, unsettled by the way she'd picked up on Squall's thoughts. It had only been an impression of a past event, but his question was as clear as if he'd spoken the words aloud. She shouldn't have answered him, nor should she have admitted that she'd heard his thoughts.

It was plain to see that he wasn't over it and that the connection between them was still intact. She thought leaving had ended his obligation to her. As easy as the promise was made, it should have been as easily broken. She had left. She'd moved on and built a different life, yet there was still something there, some intangible thing she didn't have a name for, but it was definitely there.

As she dressed for bed, she thought about how quiet and reserved he still was. As a young man, it had been difficult to draw him out of his head, but he'd allowed her in, little by little until his guard had come down and she'd found the real Squall Leonhart behind the walls.

It had taken her months to break him down, but it had been worth it. Behind the mask of the perfect, cold-hearted SeeD was a strong, yet vulnerable and sensitive soul who had loved her deeply and passionately and without reservation. He could convey with one look what he'd never been able to accomplish with words.

Even if none of the others could read him, Rinoa could. Just a subtle softening in his cold and unflinching blue eyes when they fell on her and the way the right side of his mouth would twitch into something that wasn't quite a smile... Those things were lost on the others, but Rinoa saw past the mask because she'd known his heart.

He'd loved her long before the words finally tumbled their way past his lips. If he'd never said it aloud, she still would have known, just by the way he looked at her.

Was there still something there between them? Or had she hurt him so much, he'd put the perimeter defense system back up? Did he hate her now?

No. If he did, he wouldn't be thinking about what might have happened if he'd given her a reason to stay. He still felt something for her, even if he wasn't sure what it was yet.

But what did it matter now? She was married and Squall had made it plain that she needed to keep her distance. Be it because it stirred up too much hurt or because he really wasn't interested, Rinoa wasn't sure, but she knew if she was smart, she should stay way.

She drifted out to the balcony and sat down on one of the plush wicker loungers and listened to the sound of the ocean. From here, city noises were rare. There were no car horns or police sirens, no cargo vehicles that rattled the windows as they passed. The surf was the only sound to disturb the quiet, but the rhythmic crash of the sea against the rocks below soothed rather than disrupted.

From there, she had a good view of the pool and the guest cottage. She found her gaze not on the sea but on the window and the shadow that passed back and forth against the curtains.

Squall. Pacing.

Was it thoughts of her that kept him awake, or something else?

Memories of better times bounced around in her head and she let herself be drawn in to them. Those long ago days when things were easier and they were too enamored to see the real danger was not the external kind. Her heart gave a tight squeeze at the memory of the prolonged silences where his eyes would take in every inch of her face as some inner dialogue rendered him incapable of speech.

She thought of the walks they would take together to get away from the daily grind, sometimes in perfect but comfortable silence. Sometimes they would wind up on the cliff above the harbor with his head in her lap, his eyes closed in quiet contentment. She would toy with his hair and watch the way the sun caught reddish-gold highlights, and when he opened his eyes, how they would appear a paler blue flecked with green around the pupil.

He'd been beautiful to her, even as over time his pretty boy features solidified into something more masculine. He hadn't lost that quality. Behind the rugged scruff and long hair, he was still too beautiful for words.

There was no reason to go back or to remember the way things had been, but, oh how easy it would be to draw him back in. Though the evidence suggested she stay away, she sensed his reasons had more to do with protecting himself than lack of desire. Whatever there had been between them, it was still alive and well, he was just very,  _very_  good at hiding it.

And now that she'd had that thought, she couldn't un-think it.

* * *

In the library the next morning, Squall and Zell spread the police files spread out across a table and went over the new information they'd received. Squall pondered the crime-scene photos in front of him as Zell read over the reports and made notes.

Whatever this was, it was much bigger and much stranger than he'd initially anticipated.

The first few photos in the stack showed the two guards that had been found in the desert near D-district. Their bodies lay prone inside a work van, both in business suits with the jackets open. Their shirts were unbuttoned to reveal a bloody, jagged hole in each of their chests.

Their hearts had been cut out.

That could not have been an easy task. It would have required time to saw through flesh and bone, and a strong knowledge of the precise location of the human heart. The incisions themselves were surgical in nature, not a hack job. The perpetrator had known exactly what they were doing.

"Not a lot of blood," Squall noted. "It should be all over the place if the van was where they were killed."

Zell glanced at the photo and frowned at the graphic nature of the pictures. He nodded in agreement and chewed the end of his pen.

"So they were killed somewhere else and dumped in the desert," Zell said. "Forensics didn't find anything in the van. No fibers, no finger prints, nothing. Just that message on the wall."

Squall picked up the photo of the message Zell referred to. He stared at the phrase, unable to understand what it meant. Written in blood on the interior wall of the van in block letters was the phrase:

_Little children, let no man deceive you._

"Victim's blood?" he asked.

"They don't know for sure yet, but it's definitely human," Zell said. "Blood type is a match for Jonas, but that's only a preliminary finding."

"What does it mean?"

"It's a passage from the Book of Hyne," Zell said. " _Little children, let no man deceive you; he that doeth righteousness is righteous._ "

"So, whoever did this believes that this was a righteous kill."

"Maybe," Zell agreed. "Followers of Hyne believe that heaven is only open to them if they live a clean and moral life. A lot of them are do-gooders, you know, love thy neighbor, donate to charity, do good deeds and stuff."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong here, but doesn't the Book of Hyne say that man is flawed and can never attain true righteousness?" Squall asked. "Nobody, not even the best of them are completely free of sin."

"Heaven must be a pretty empty place," Zell said with a small smile. "The world's full of sinners."

What did this have to do with Rinoa Delacroix? Why not just kill the Ironclad guards? Why take their hearts? Was that what they had planned for her, or was it something even worse?

"And no good deed goes unpunished," Squall murmured.

Zell looked up sharply and cocked his head to the side.

"Rin's really active in charities and stuff," Zell said. "She does tons of work for homeless shelters and kids organizations, along with all the stuff for Timber. You think maybe someone sees her as righteous?"

"Or they're punishing her for something," Squall said. "Maybe they see it as self-righteousness."

"Rin's not self-righteous," Zell said. "She loves that stuff."

"Irrelevant. I don't think this is specifically about her charity work," Squall said. "And killing in the name of righteousness is still a sin."

"It wouldn't be to someone who thinks they're doing Hyne's work," Zell pointed out. "The old,  _Hyne told me to do it_ excuse."

Squall flipped through the photos again. The ghastly images registered less than the methodical way the victims had been desecrated. Killing them was one thing. Killing them to take organs was another. Were the hearts trophies? Or a symbol of something?

"This was no easy kill," Squall said. "I don't care who you are, Linus was the only person I've ever seen Seifer fail to take down in hand-to-hand besides you and me. He wouldn't have gone down easy."

"Coroner's report says probable cause of death was blunt force trauma, not the heart surgery," Zell said biting the end of his pen again. "They were hit over the head with something hard. Hard. Repeatedly, in Linus' case."

"Then there was more than one," Squall concluded. "Had to have been at least two."

"Okay, let's say it was a group job," Zell said. "The question is, why?"

Rinoa had mentioned the people in her social circle didn't like her, but she didn't think they hated her enough to have her harmed. Squall had to question that, given what Zell had said. The fact that Rinoa was involved in so much charity work had to mean something.

They were interrupted when a young man in a chef's uniform entered the library with a cart of food and a fresh carafe of coffee. His name tag identified him as Steven.

"The Missus asked me to serve your breakfast in here so you can continue your work uninterrupted," he said. "If you'd like decaf, I can make some."

"This is fine," Squall said. A fresh cup of coffee would do him some good. He hadn't slept well, again because of Rinoa.

Steven cleared away a spot at the end of the table for the food. Squall noticed the way the young man eyed the photos with alarmed interest. He slipped them under a file folder and stared at the kid until he looked away.

"Sorry," Steven said. "I've never seen crime scene photos before."

"Then consider yourself lucky," Squall said. "You can leave the cart. We'll help ourselves."

"Please, let me know if you need anything else," the young man said. "I'll be in the kitchen."

Squall poured himself a cup of coffee as Steven left, and waited while Zell piled his plate full of quiche, bacon and fresh fruit.

"I'd start with her social circle," Squall said as Zell returned to his seat. "See if there's a standout or someone who fits the profile."

"Planning on it," Zell said. "I'm going with her to some fund raiser ball thing tonight."

If Squall had known about it, he would have gone in Zell's place. It wasn't that he didn't trust Zell to do a good job, it would just make Squall feel better to be there in case everything went sideways. After all this time, the urge to protect Rinoa was strong. It was like some long dormant part of himself had been unearthed, and he didn't know why.

Zell ate and Squall continued his methodical examination of the photos until his eyes began to droop. He checked the time and put the photos back in their envelope.

"I need to go check in with Raijin," Squall said. "And then, I'm going to take a nap."

"A nap? This early in the day?" Zell asked. "That's not like you."

It wasn't, but all the late nights had caught up to him. If he didn't close his eyes for a while, he was going to fall asleep at the table, but he didn't bother to explain his reasons.

"Feel free to wake me if something comes up," he said. "I'll be in the guest house."

"Will do," Zell said and returned his attention to the police report before him.

Preston and Raijin were already hard at work when Squall met with them in the family wing. He ensured they were on the right track and checked the work they'd done so far.

"Make sure all these cameras are working before you move on," Squall said. "And let me know if you have questions."

"We got this," Preston promised.

"Oh, yeah, hold up a sec," Raijin said as he dug a paper bag out of his supplies, "Seifer wanted me to give this to you, ya know?"

The bag had some weight to it. A crude sketch of breasts was drawn on one side in black marker. Squall resisted the urge to face-palm and peeked inside and found a bottle of expensive premium vodka and a jumbo sized box of condoms with a note taped to the front.

_You can thank me later. -S_

Squall didn't know whether to laugh or scream. Only Seifer would find this funny.

He took the box of condoms out of the bag and handed them to a bewildered Preston.

"Don't use them all in one place," Squall in an imitation of Seifer as he tucked the vodka under his arm and walked away.

Lily was on the back patio when he arrived at the guest house, working on a watercolor painting of the ocean beyond. Squall admired the gray and blue tones and the delicate brush strokes on the paper. It never ceased to amaze him how talented she was. Even her crude work was exceptional.

"That's nice, Lil," he said. "You here by yourself?"

"Rinoa's on the phone in my room," she said. "Some charity thing."

"Don't pester her, okay?" Squall said and smoothed her messy hair. "I'm going to take a nap."

"How come you're not sleeping?"

"Just really busy," he said. "Stress."

"I'll try to be quiet."

"Thanks, kiddo," he said. "Wake me up if anyone comes by for me, okay?"

In the bedroom he lay down and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was sound asleep.

* * *

Women from Rinoa's social circle had been calling all day. The latest was from Miranda Delong, and Rinoa doubted the woman cared about anything but the gory details. Rinoa's well being was the least of the woman's worries.

She emerged from Lily's bedroom and as she passed the open door of Squall's room, she saw him laying face up on the bed. He was still clothed, one hand curled up next to his face, the other against his stomach. He'd fallen asleep with his boots still on.

She bit her lip as she hesitated in the doorway. Maybe she should go in and remove his shoes. He was such a neat freak, he never would have gone to sleep still wearing them if he wasn't completely wiped out. Dirt in the bed would make him insane.

As quietly as she could, she moved into the room and stopped at the foot of the bed. She heard a soft sigh escape his lips as she stared down at his sleeping face. She froze, worried she'd woken him.

When he didn't move or open his eyes, she reached out and pulled the lace on one boot and then the other. Carefully, she stripped them from his feet and set them by the door. It wasn't wise to stay, but she watched him for a second to take in the long, dark lashes that rested against his cheeks, his relaxed jaw and slightly parted lips. Still beautiful, and still so tempting.

Before she knew what she was doing, she stepped forward and leaned down to kiss him awake. She was well acquainted with all the consequences of waking a SeeD, but she was compelled to do it anyway. She stopped herself an inch from his face. They were so close, they shared a breath before she reeled back in horror at her own reckless behavior.

Squall would not appreciate her being there, and he would not be grateful to be woken by another man's wife.

She backed toward the door, aware that he wasn't the only one who could be drawn back in. The force she'd sensed last night went both ways, and she was just as vulnerable to their old connection as he was. If he were to decide he no longer wanted distance, she wouldn't stand a chance of remaining faithful to Ian.

Squall's eyes opened and they fell on her before she could make her escape. She held her breath and hoped he would close them and forget she was here, but he continued to watch her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"You fell asleep with your boots on," she said.

He looked down at his sock clad feet and blinked sleepily at them.

"I dreamed you tried to kiss me," he murmured.

His eyes drifted shut and his body relaxed, one hand still curled next to his face. Rinoa leaned against the door frame, relieved that she hadn't been caught, yelled at, or thrown out. The last thing she needed was to complicate matters for either of them.

What had she been thinking, anyway? That he would kiss her back? To what end?

Squall and her past with him were not things she needed to dwell on. She'd almost been kidnapped, for Hyne's sake.

She composed herself in the hall before she returned to the living room to rejoin Lily on the patio. As she sat, her phone rang again and she answered it with great reluctance. Another call from a concerned "friend."

"Darling, it's Lacey. I just heard the awful news! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Rinoa lied.

"How can you say that after what happened?" Lacey cried. "You must have been terrified!"

Rinoa sighed. "It was scary, but it's over and the police have it handled."

"You poor thing. With Florian gone, I can't imagine how you can stand to be there alone!"

The woman was fishing for details and she was the last person Rinoa wanted to divulge them to. Of all the people in her social circle, Lacey was the least catty, but she was also the biggest gossip, and she was naïve enough to believe that no harm would come from discussing the personal details of others.

"I'm fine, really," Rinoa said. "Far worse happened to me during the war. And I've got a solid security team that I trust, so I'm perfectly safe here."

"I always forget you were in that dreadful war," Lacey said with disdain. "I can't even picture you fighting, Noni, let alone on some battlefield somewhere all covered in blood! Did you have to fight those guards off on your own?"

Rinoa pressed a hand to her eyes and made a face at the phone. She doubted Lacey or any of the others had forgotten for a second about the war, considering how often it came up and how often it was used against her.

"I wish I could give you all the details, but until the police are done with their investigation, I'm not allowed to discuss it," she said.

"Do you think maybe the man installing your security system had something to do with it?" Lacey pressed. "He was handsome, but he looked so scary and dangerous."

"I can say for sure, he had nothing to do with it," Rinoa said.

"How do you know?" Lacey asked. "It's not like you know him personally or anything."

If Lacey knew the truth, she would have a field day with it. Everyone would know Rinoa had been lustily eyeballing the help, who just happened to be a man she'd loved as a girl. Sordid tales would circulate and become more and more exaggerated until the truth was buried under a tale of debauchery someone claimed to have personally witnessed.

"I really wish I could tell you more," Rinoa said again, "I know everyone must be so worried."

It was hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. None of them cared about her well being. Not really. All they wanted a good scandal to discuss over brunch.

* * *

"How did you like my gift?" Seifer asked.

"Appreciate the vodka," Squall said. He refused to mention the rest. "I'll be sure it doesn't go to waste."

"You are absolutely no fun, Leonhart," Seifer said. "At the rate you're going, that box will still be in your nightstand when you're ninety."

"No, it won't," Squall said. "I gave them to Preston."

"As if he's going to use them any more than you would. I need to take that kid out and teach him a thing or two," Seifer said. "How's it going otherwise? They making progress?"

"Coming along," Squall said. "The rest is... a mess."

"Are you talking about yourself or the other stuff?"

"Both," Squall admitted.

Squall would never admit that to anyone else, and it wasn't a subject he cared to discuss with Seifer either, but the man never let him get away with keeping it to himself. Seifer knew him too well, and it was much easier to confess than to try and hide it.

"Is it possible that Rinoa and I are still connected?" Squall asked. "That the bond is still there?"

"Ah, figure it out, did you?"

"I'm her Knight. That's what you were implying."

"It's permanent, Leonhart," Seifer said with a sigh. "As in, there's not shit you can do about it."

Permanent? As in, forever? The bond didn't break when one or the other left?

That explained why she'd been able to hear his thoughts, and why he felt an undeniable pull toward her every time they were in the same room together. But, why hadn't he felt it before now? In all their years apart, if the bond was still intact, why was it only apparent now? Was it a case of proximity? Further research was needed, but Squall was too overwhelmed to dig too far into it.

"I bet she's got you by the balls right now," Seifer said. "Tempting, isn't it? The forbidden fruit. Another man's wife, oh-so available but off-limits..."

"Stop right there. I don't want to hear your personal fantasies," Squall said. "If I'm still her Knight..."

"Then she's not really off limits, is she?" Seifer finished. "Way to justify making a cuckold of a guy in a wheelchair, Leonhart. I'm proud of you. I couldn't have rationalized it any better myself."

Only Seifer would come to that conclusion and only Seifer would have said it out loud.

"I was going to say, that makes me responsible for her," Squall said. "I don't want to be responsible."

"And yet, you are," Seifer said. "To a pathetic degree. For the rest of your life."

"What are my options?" Squall wondered aloud. "Run?"

Seifer snorted. "Since when have you ever run away from anything?"

"I've had my moments," Squall said. "You know I have."

"Well, the way I see it you've got three choices," Seifer said. "You can GF yourself into oblivion again, because that worked out great for you," Seifer said, "you can put a bullet in your head, effectively ending your Knighthood and your pathetic, worthless existence, or you can stop fighting it, cuckold the cripple and be done with it."

"One, it worked pretty damn well," Squall said. "Two, don't tempt me, and three, you're an asshole."

"My wager stands, Leonhart," Seifer said. "Why lie to yourself?"

"Why do I feel like you're trying to talk me into this?" Squall asked.

"I'm trying to reason with you," Seifer said. "And spare myself the trouble of listening to you bitch and moan about it for the next month."

"You asked," Squall pointed out. "Don't ask if you don't want to hear it."

"Yeah, yeah," Seifer said. "So much for keeping my mouth shut, huh?"

"Yeah, great job," Squall said. "Keep up the good work."

"Is this why you called?" Seifer asked. "To whine at me because you're too honorable to admit what you really want?"

"No," Squall said. "I actually wanted to ask if you'd consult on this. It would help to have someone in Deling City rather than have Zell go back and forth. I need him here."

"Do I have to work with Dincht?" Seifer asked. "Like, actually speak to him?"

"Yeah," Squall said.

"Hell no."

"I'll split the pay with you," Squall said. "Half of whatever Delacroix throws at me is yours if you give me a hand."

"Chicken-wuss still hate me?"

"Probably."

"Damn it."

"Is that a yes?"

"...fine. But don't blame me if things get ugly."

"I'll send over what we've got," Squall said. "I've never seen anything like this before."

"Well, color me intrigued," Seifer said. "There's not a lot you haven't seen."

"I'm betting you haven't either."

The in-house line rang and Squall made a promise to get back with Seifer later, then picked up the new call.

"Sorry to bother you," Rinoa said, "I know you're probably busy, but when you get a chance, could you get the sapphire and earring set out of the safe? If I knew the access codes, I'd do it myself, but..."

"Not a problem," he said.

Great. Just what he needed. To be his former lover's errand boy.

"Thanks. I'm in my room," she said.

"Be right up."

In the safe, it took Squall few tries to find the set she wanted. He opened box after box of exquisite jewelry, most of it exceptionally fine quality precious and semi-precious gems. There were pearls and rubies, diamonds of various sizes, colors and cuts, emeralds and even a necklace of black opal that shimmered like molten fire under the lights. He sorted through jade and amber, amethyst and garnet with a sense of disgust that only deepened the more he saw. Here was a veritable rainbow of extravagance that he could never compete with.

He found the sapphires and took a look at the dark but clear blue stones set in gold and accented with diamonds. The cost alone could have paid the mortgage on a decent house in the suburbs for a year.

In the world of the wealthy, things like this were a necessity if you wanted to fit in. He'd been to enough functions among the rich to know that extravagance was part of the dress code.

Rinoa was already dressed for the evening when he delivered the necklace and she looked stunning. The beaded sapphire blue gown offset her pale skin and dark hair in a flattering way. There wasn't even a trace of the freedom fighter who'd favored mini-skirts and tank tops in the elegant, sophisticated woman standing before him.

"Thanks," she said as she took the box from him.

Zell popped his head in the open door, and his eyes widened as he spied his old friend. He gave a low whistle as he stepped into the room and scanned her from head to toe.

"Wow," he said. "You look like a billion gil."

"Thanks," she said with a smile. "You look pretty sharp yourself."

She reached out to straighten the bow tie at Zell's throat and Squall spared him a cursory glance, only to see that his long time friend almost looked as though he could fit in with the snobs he was about to encounter. His normally gravity-defiant hair was parted on one side and slicked down, and his tuxedo was crisp, pressed and well fitted, his shoes polished to a shiny gloss. Gold cuff links glittered at his wrists, leaving Squall to wonder if they were the real thing. If not for the garish tattoo on Zell's face, he could have passed for some young upstart with cash to burn.

"You about ready?" Zell asked. "Limo's here."

"Just need my armor," she said as she opened the box of sapphires.

"Shit," Zell exclaimed. "That looks expensive."

"It is," Rinoa agreed without a trace of irony. "Help me put the necklace?"

Her eyes were on Squall, but Zell reached into the box and slid the short chain around Rinoa's throat. Squall's eyes followed it as it snaked across her porcelain skin, shimmering gold and bright white and dark blue in the lamplight.

Some feral beast inside him roared to life and not-so-silently urged him to pry Zell's hands away from her so he could do it himself. It was insane to be jealous when she was no longer his, but a possessive and territorial urge welled up in his gut and he was overcome with a desire to put his hands around Zell's neck and squeeze until he turned blue.

Rinoa did not belong to him. No matter what Seifer said, he had no claim on her. None whatsoever.

While Rinoa and Zell were out, Squall took the opportunity to install the alarm panel in her room. It took him two hours to run the wires and another hour to test it.

As he cleaned up for the night, Rinoa stumbled into the room, obviously drunk. She kicked off a pair of beaded satin heels as she came farther into the room and ran her hands over her face. The beaded sapphire gown glittered under the light of the chandelier and gemstones flashed at her throat and her ears like emergency beacons.

"I'm almost done," he promised. "Just give me a few minutes to clean up."

She sauntered over to the mirror and unpinned her hair. It fell down past her shoulders in shiny waves and Squall remembered what it was like to run his fingers through those glossy, silky strands. His throat tightened and he tossed his tools back into his bag in a hurried and haphazard manner to expedite his retreat.

Yards of shimmery fabric spilled around her as she sat to to watch him in the mirror. Bleary brown eyes were fixed on him, and Squall froze as though her gaze held all the power of a Stop spell.

"Why did you let me leave?" she asked.

Squall stared stupidly back at her, a power drill still clenched in his fist. She was too drunk to have this conversation and he was in no shape to rehash the moment that had shipwrecked him. He forced his eyes from her and dropped the drill into the bag. He would go before she said another word.

She got up and crossed the room. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her mascara had run. Twin rivers of black streaked her flushed cheeks and her dark eyes flashed with anger as she approached.

"Why?" she demanded. "Why did you let me go?"

Wordlessly, Squall backed toward the door as she advanced on him. He misjudged the exit and his back hit the wall. It was too late and there was nowhere to run. A foot away, she stared at him in a way that was as terrifying as it was heartbreaking.

"Why?" she cried. "Tell me why you let me go!"

"Tell me why you left."

She balled up her fists and pounded them against his chest, her fists striking at him over and over as she sobbed and cursed him. Squall, unsure of what to do, stood there and took it.

As her drunken hysteria grew, her blows grew harder and wilder. Her open palm met his cheek with a hard crack and a lick of fire blazed across his skin. It hurt but it was nothing compared to the pain building in his chest.

That pain was equal parts his and hers, a shared grief that sprang from the same source. It burned hot and bright as they absorbed each other's hurt the way fire fed on fresh, dry tinder.

He reached out and seized her wrists as her hand came up to strike him again. She struggled to free her captured hands, and then howled and whimpered like a child when he refused to let go. She couldn't sustain her rage for long, and sooner than he expected, she gave up the fight and dissolved into sobs.

"Why?" she asked. "Why, Squall?"

He let her wrists go to take her tear stained cheeks between his palms. He could absolve her of any fault and demonize himself, if only to ensure she kept her distance. He could inflict a particular kind of cruelty on her that would make her hate him, but as he stared down at her, he didn't have the heart to do either.

There were no answers he could give her. There were too many gaps in his memory to say for sure what had happened or why he'd let her walk away. This was not something he could face and still remain intact. There was still the chance that if he stayed clear of her, he could go back to the orderly and predictable cadence of his life without getting his heart broken again.

As he looked down at her tear streaked face, his thumbs brushed over her cheeks and came away smudged with mascara. Behind all his confusion and hurt was more love for her than made sense after all this time, and it was so tempting to fold her up in his arms and never, ever let her go again.

" _If that's really what you want... then just go."_

Then he remembered how it ended. Every last heart-crushing second of it and his hands shook as he dropped them from her cheeks to her shoulders to push her away.

"Tell me why," she insisted. "How could you let me leave?"

"Because you wanted to go," he said.

"And you just let me?"

"Did you expect me to chase you?" he asked quietly. "Go running after you?"

Rinoa's face was stricken with guilt. That was exactly what she'd expected, to prove himself to her one more time, to chase her, to rescue her from another impulsive decision.

"You're the one that gave up, Rinoa. You're the one that packed your bags and refused to fight to make it work."

"And you're the one that missed dinners and canceled plans and let your job get in the way," she said. "I barely even saw you!"

She slapped at his chest ineffectually and Squall to take hold of her wrists again. Her struggle this time was half-hearted, either weakened by emotion or alcohol.

"Stop hitting me," he said. "I'd never raise a hand to you."

"No, you just use silence to hurt people," she spat.

That truth stung. Silence was his only means of defense against things like this. If he'd used it to inflict hurt, it was only because he didn't want to utter words that might hurt more.

"What do you want from me?" he asked. "An apology? What?"

"Why didn't you make me stop?" she moaned. "Why didn't you love me enough to make me stay?"

A knot of anger twisted in Squall's chest. All the things left unsaid between them came roaring back to the surface, all the reasons he'd let her go fresh in his memory as though it was yesterday. He hadn't begged, but he'd made it clear she was wanted before  _and_ after she'd walked out of his life. The longer he stayed here, the more he remembered. Memories unlocked other memories, and the pieces of the puzzle came together bit by bit.

He remembered now.

"I didn't stop you  _because_  I loved you," he said. "I wanted you to stay, but you were so determined to leave. I thought  _you_ loved me enough that you'd come back, but you didn't."

She wrenched away from him and wandered toward the bed and then back to him, aimless and agitated. Intoxication seemed to fuel her anger.

"I'm the one who should be asking why," he said. "Why you didn't love me enough to come back. Why you left in the first place. Why you  _married_  someone else."

"Married," she said. Bitter laughter bubbled from her throat. "Did you know my marriage is a sham? A business arrangement. He's never even here, and when he is, we're basically roommates. Roommates in this great big useless house, where the only children I'll ever have won't even be mine!"

Squall leaned back against the wall as she paced the room drunkenly and ranted about what a joke her life was. It was best to stay out of her way and wait for a chance to escape.

"You weren't so far off when you thought I married for money," she slurred. "Except, it was about the connections and the power it gave me. It was his money that bought Timber's liberation and his connections that lobbied for it. All I did was make some speeches and make some generous donations with his money. Were you able to do that for me?"

If she was expecting his sympathy, she wouldn't get it.

He would never have been able to give her Timber on a pretty little platter the way Delacroix had. He'd had a lot of influence as Garden Commander, and he had plenty of connections, but his job required neutrality. To be associated with her campaign at the time would have caused even greater problems between Garden and Galbadia.

That tension was what had caused the missed dinners and the canceled plans. Her presence and association with Balamb Garden had been a conflict of interest, according to Galbadian politicians and Cid and world news organizations alike. How could Garden truly be neutral if it's commander cohabitated with the very thing Garden was created to destroy?

Squall staunchly refused to disassociate himself with her. Every single canceled plan was a result of his continued fight for her presence in his life, and not because he was neglectful. The idea of conducting an affair in secret was intolerable to both of them, and if it had ever come down to a choice between SeeD and Rinoa, Squall would have chosen her.

She'd made the choice for both of them by packing her bags and never once looking back, by marrying a man who could back her financially in a way Squall and Garden never could.

Oh, she was shrewd. She'd gotten exactly what she wanted. And she'd knowingly and willingly entered into a loveless marriage for the sake of power. How cold and calculating, to use a crippled man and his money to further her cause.

Maybe, Squall had never known her at all. Maybe, she'd just used him too, and when she realized she couldn't use his influence to achieve her goals, she dropped him like a two-ton heavy thing and didn't even care if it left him a wreck.

"No," she said. She turning blazing brown eyes eyes on him. "That's not true. Not true at all. I'd never, ever use someone like that."

Squall couldn't tell if it was true or not, nor did he care if it was. She had made her choice, and that choice had effectively placed him outside of her world. Only circumstance had brought them together again, and he wished he had flat out told Delacroix no. He should have known what this would come to.

"Get out of my head," he said. "You don't have the right to do that anymore. I'm not your Knight."

There was a great deal of hurt in her eyes as she looked back at him.

"If you're not, why do I still hear you?" she asked.

He knew the answer, but refused to say it out loud. Seifer had been right. Squall still belonged to her, whether he liked it or not.

"Why the hell does any of this matter?" he demanded. "You left me, Rinoa. You don't have the right to be pissed at me for the choice you made!"

She picked up her shoe and threw it at him. Her aim was way off, and it smacked into the door three feet from his head but he winced anyway, and slid away from the impact with his back still against the wall. She picked up the other one, ready to hurl it at him, and he doubted she would miss again.

His hold on his emotions broke and shattered into a thousand pieces. It was as if that moment so long ago was happening all over again.

"God damn it," he swore. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I didn't stop you from leaving. I'm sorry I didn't know how bad it was for you. I'm sorry I didn't go chasing after you like you wanted me to, but you broke my fucking heart, Rinoa!"

She dropped the shoe and stared at him with wide eyes. "Squall-"

"I'm not finished," he said. "You knew what that would do to me and you left anyway. We could have figured something out, could have made it work, but you left!"

She snatched the shoe from the floor and hurled it at him. It hit him in the chest and all it did was piss him off more.

"How dare you!"

"I never got over you," he said quietly. "Is that what you want to hear? That I'm still a wreck and I'm still not over it? Does that make you feel better?!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Squall knew it was true. He wasn't over her. Not even close.

A hard, painful knot formed in his throat and his legs grew weak. He wasn't over her and he hated himself for that. Just the sight of her standing there with mascara stains on her cheeks and her eyes bright with pain and understanding was enough to ruin him.

Squall sank to the floor as he realized he had no control over how much he still loved her and how much power she still had over him. He could run, but she would always be there, that imperceptible thing between them was forever. That impulsive and thoughtless promise he'd made when he was barely a man would forever bind him to her, and there was no going back.

"Squall-"

"Just stop," he said quietly. "You got what you wanted."

"No-"

"Stop," he breathed.

She moved toward him and reached out to place a hand against his cheek.

"Don't touch me," he warned as he brushed her away.

"Squall-"

"No," he said. "No more. You wrecked me once. I'm not letting you do it again."

Then she was in his lap, yards of beaded fabric crushed between them as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The heady scent of orange blossom, along with a whiff of strong alcohol and talcum powder overwhelmed him.

Torn between pushing her away and embracing her back, Squall sat as still as a statue with his hands clenched at his sides. She murmured something that could have been an apology and she clutched him tighter, squeezing the breath from his lungs.

The dampness of her tears soaked through his shirt onto his skin, and Squall knew he was doomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote used in this chapter is from the Bible, John 3: 7.


	6. Chapter 6

Years of rigorous training had prepared Squall Leonhart for the life of a mercenary. He had survived in the harshest of conditions, through days and weeks of battles that never seemed to end, through injury, imprisonment and torture. He'd succeeded in commanding an entire Garden at the age of seventeen, a sink or swim endeavor that had been thrust upon him against his wishes, and had emerged victorious. He'd fought in two wars, and had been to hell and back, and had returned in one piece, though not without his scars.

He'd always thought he'd go down swinging, that his end would come while he held a blade aloft. Yet all it had taken to bring him down was the crying woman in his lap. She was the only true weakness he had ever had, the only thing in his entire world that could have brought him to his knees with just a look or an unkind word.

Little by little, she'd made her place in his heart and his life. She'd torn down his walls, brick by brick until every part of his soul had been laid bare to her. She'd known how to love him, and what he needed most, but she'd also known exactly how to break him.

How could he forgive her for that?

He couldn't bring himself to return her embrace, but he couldn't find it in himself to get up from the floor and walk away either. The weight of her against his chest called to the part of him that still desperately wanted and needed her, but that was not a line he was willing to cross. No matter how big a sham her relationship with Florian Delacroix, he could not interfere with a marriage. Even if it was broken or built on power instead of love, Squall would not cross that line.

Abruptly, he pushed Rinoa out of his lap and got to his feet. He didn't dare look at her.

"I would have burned Balamb to the ground if you'd asked me to," he said softly. "Anything, I would have done it."

"You know that's a lie," she slurred. "You lying liar."

"I would have killed for you. All you had to do was ask."

"Admit it. If I'd asked you to go to Timber with me, to leave everything behind, you would have said no."

He didn't know how he would have answered, and she hadn't asked. What he did know was that he had never wanted to live without her.

"You're drunk," he said, "and I'm done with this conversation."

He left her there and the sound of her sobs followed him down the hallway and sliced his heart to ribbons. The scent of her perfume lingered as he fled, a ghost that followed him all the way to the foyer.

He wandered the house without direction and checked camera functionality as he went. It was less a needed task than a distraction and he found nothing amiss. Each worked the way it should.

Eventually, he found himself in a small gym on the first floor. Inside he stripped off his shirt and his boots and began to throw punches at the heavy bag in the corner. He paid no attention to technique or form as he lashed out at the bag, but struck it with as much force as he could muster. He hit it over and over again until his body was covered in sweat and his knuckles were raw.

"Haymakers are for drunks, Leonhart," Zell said behind him. "You're gonna break your wrists if you keep hitting it like that."

Squall didn't much care if he broke anything or not. Physical pain made more sense than emotional pain. He could fight through physical pain. Physical injuries eventually healed. The emotional sort had a way of coming back to haunt him, and they never quite healed on their own.

And Rinoa was a raw, open wound in his heart that had never stopped bleeding.

"What gives?" Zell asked. "Why do you look like someone kicked you in the ribs?"

Squall steadied the heavy bag and took a step back. Zell reached out and clasped Squall's wrist to inspect his knuckles and shook his head in disgust. One was bleeding, and the rest so raw they'd begun to swell.

"You know better than this," Zell scolded. He he dug around in his pocket for a potion. "Lemmie fix it."

Squall pulled his wrist away with a wince as pain shot through his ring finger. He'd probably broken something, but he didn't care. A broken bone he could handle. The ache in his chest was something else entirely.

"Don't bother," Squall said. "Did you get any information at the party?"

"Nothing I can use," Zell said as he took a seat on a nearby weight bench. "All of them are a bunch of self-important idiots. I don't know how she can stand it."

Squall thought about Rinoa's statement about the power behind Delacroix and his contacts. He had a fairly good idea of how she'd endured it. She tolerated it because it served her purposes. She'd put up with anything if it got her what she wanted.

Had she always been so cold, or had that come after their separation? Maybe he'd never known her at all.

"No suspects?" Squall asked. "Nothing suspicious?"

"Not unless you count the overall value of jewelry and gold watches in that room. Pretty dull otherwise," Zell said. "How do these people get so rich?"

"Maybe we should find out," Squall said.

"I'm almost afraid to know," Zell said. "I'm already digging into Delacroix. I haven't found anything out of line with what he says he is."

"What is he?"

"The real question is, what isn't he?" Zell said. "The guy's into everything. Investing, property development, real estate, manufacturing, import, export, banking, technology, print and broadcast media. He also owns a chain of hotels and restaurants and an exclusive men's retail chain."

Squall had known Delacroix was the head of a property development firm that built hotels and night clubs. He'd also known the man was an intuitive and smart investor, but he hadn't known about the rest. With that many interests, he couldn't imagine being able to balance it all. It explained why he was never home. The man was too busy to be home.

"He's got all that going on, yet he has no ties to organized crime?" Squall said doubtfully. "Anyone who deals in night clubs has got to have some shady business going on."

"He doesn't actually own or run them," Zell said. "He just builds them. Anyway, I'm still looking. It's gonna take a couple days to get through all of it."

Squall leaned against the wall and thought about the two dead men in the van. If they were going o find any clues that mattered, it would be there and not in Delacroix' financial or business dealings.

"If he's connected, then it's so well buried we're not going to find it," Squall said. "I'd rather focus on who did this and why. If it's mob related, we'll be more likely to find out if we figure out who's responsible first, then tie it back later."

"Yeah, that's kinda what I was thinking."

Squall reached for his shirt and pulled it back over his head. It still smelled like Rinoa's perfume. It wasn't as strong as it was before, but it was enough to tie his guts into knots again.

"One thing I should probably bring up..." Zell said. "Rin got pretty sloshed tonight. That's why we came back early. She started drinking the second she hit the place and didn't stop until I dragged her out of there."

"I saw her. Think she's got a problem?"

"No. I think it's something else," Zell said. "Nerves or fear or something. She was pretty weird on the way there."

"Weird?"

"Maybe not weird. Sad...or worried or something," Zell said. "Quiet. Not her usual self."

The girl he'd known was a free spirit who made friends with anyone and everyone. From the homeless guy who lived under the bridge in Balamb Harbor, to Presidents of technological superpowers, everyone had loved her. To hear her talk, none of these Dolletian society people cared for her, not even with a man like Delacroix behind her.

"How did they treat her?" Squall asked as he straddled the bench of a weight machine and sat. "Were they rude?"

"The ladies don't seem too fond of her," Zell said. "Especially after she refused to discuss what happened here. The men... Well, they're men and she's still gorgeous."

Squall frowned, but he imagined Zell was right. She was young, beautiful and spirited, and these rich men thought they were entitled to whatever they wanted, even the wives of their associates. He imagined she could claim the attention of at least half the men in the room without even trying. They would either see her as the forbidden fruit or totally available because she was unaccompanied by her crippled husband. Their eyes would follow her through the room as she made her rounds and knocked back drink after drink. Perhaps one or two of those men waited for just the right opportunity to get her alone.

The thought made Squall's blood boil. Her spirit and beauty had always inspired lust in other men. Squall had been aware of that from their first date, when he'd caught the host staring at Rinoa's legs with unapologetic desire. Even then, Squall had been possessive and protective of her. They had no right to look. Not then, not now.

Nothing had changed. Squall still wanted to shield her from the roving eyes of strangers, and she didn't even belong to him anymore.

"Anyone show any undue interest?" Squall asked. "Overly flirtatious? Touch her too much or in a way that was too familiar?"

"No one made her uncomfortable, if that's what you're asking," Zell said with a shrug. "There was one guy, though... If he stared any harder, I think his wife was gonna file for divorce."

"Did you get his name?"

"Marty Dumas," Zell said. "Wife's name is Jackie. She's involved in a lot of the same charity work as Rinoa. Rumor is that Dumas is connected."

"Follow up on that," Squall said.

"Already put in a query," Zell said.

Now was as good a time as any to break the news that Seifer would be Zell's Deling City contact. Zell was not going to like it, but as far as Squall saw it, it was a necessary addition to the investigation. Seifer had a few connections in Deling City that Zell might not have access to, and Seifer was good at digging up dirt.

Squall knew Zell was not going to take the news as professionally as he should. The years of torment he'd endured at Seifer's hands had left their mark and he still harbored a bitter dislike for Seifer Almasy and maybe he always would.

"Are you kidding me?!" Zell cried. "You brought Almasy into this? Are you nuts?"

"He's good at this," Squall said. "Really good. And he'll be able to work the Deling City end of the investigation for you."

"Look, I know he's your business partner and all, but..."

"You're a SeeD," Squall said. "Don't take it personal."

Zell scowled and crossed his arms, face screwed up in disgust.

"He's all right, Zell," Squall said. "Trust me on this, okay?"

"Is he still an asshole?"

"Yeah. He's still an asshole," Squall assured him. "Just ignore it and you'll be fine."

"Are you doing this this because you don't think I can handle it?"

"No," Squall said. "It's because I can't handle it."

* * *

Squall sat on the porch of the guest house and sipped a glass of vodka over ice to help him sleep. He stared out at the dark ocean and the clear night sky as he tried to think of anything but Rinoa. It was no use, and drinking was a bad idea, but it effectively dulled down his heightened emotions, even as it loosened memories from the darker recesses of his mind.

They'd been happy in the beginning, before reality had reared its ugly head. He'd been at his best and happiest when he was alone with her, somewhere where it was quiet. Without people around to constantly ask questions and call his name or take up his precious time, he'd found her presence a comfort.

Their separate obligations and duties had slowly undermined their time together. He had battled Cid and the World Council and Galbadia to keep her in his life, just as she'd struggled to pay for train tickets and to organize protests and meetings with those in charge so that Timber might some day be free. It had eaten away the joy of those precious moments when they could truly be alone.

How easy it would have been to get on a train and follow her to Timber, to say goodbye to SeeD and Garden and never look back. He could have chased her, and he  _should_  have, but at the time, it had seemed like she needed space. It was just one more rash and impulsive decision, like so many before and Squall had operated under the delusion that they were not done. She would come back to him when she was ready.

But she never did.

It was masochistic to rehash all this. Squall didn't particularly enjoy inflicting pain on himself, but he couldn't stop. There were too many good things he'd forgotten, along with the bad, but it was bittersweet to know their time together had been shot through with a thousand moments of happiness that should have seen them through the darker times.

He finished his drink and checked on Lily before he turned in for the night. Lily slept soundly, tangled in her sheet and sprawled in the middle of the bed. Hyne, how she reminded him of Ellone, and Hyne how he wished he could make living with him easier for her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and straightened the sheets before returning to his own room for the night.

As he drifted off, all he could think about was the way the sapphires and diamonds had flashed at Rinoa's ears and throat as she raged at him, but nothing in the room was brighter than the heat in her dark eyes.

* * *

Rinoa woke the next morning, a dull throb in her head and something tight constricting her chest. She groaned and rolled onto her side to try and dislodge the thing that impaired her breathing without success. It didn't help and now there was something tangled in her hair that pulled sharply at the roots on the back of her head.

She reached around behind her and her fingers grasped something heavy and rope-like tangled in her hair. She gave it a tug to try and dislodge it and winced as it came free, but not without taking some of her hair along with it.

She wrapped her fingers around the offending item, brought it around to her face and opened her eyes.

Blue and gold. Shiny.

_Oh, shit._

She sat up with a start and stared at the broken sapphire necklace in her hand. The necklace was worth a quarter million Gil, and in her drunken carelessness, she'd managed to ruin it.

"Damn it," she murmured. "This is why you can't have nice things, Rin."

She leaned back into the pillow with her fingers still clenched around the broken jewelry. It was still difficult to breathe and she looked down at herself to find she still wore the ball gown and all the supportive, restrictive undergarments that went along with it. No wonder she couldn't breathe.

The gown was horribly wrinkled and had bunched up above her knees while she'd slept. A good jeweler might be able to fix the necklace, but the gown was a lost cause.

What the hell happened last night? Why had Zell let her get so drunk?

Rinoa regretted that thought immediately. Zell was not her babysitter and he was not responsible for keeping her sober. It wasn't his fault she'd tried to drown her worries in excessive booze, and it was not his fault she'd wound up too drunk to function.

Her head ached and her stomach threatened revolt as she shimmied out of the dress and the shaping garment. She cast them to the floor and crawled back into bed with a moan of relief.

" _You got what you wanted, didn't you?"_

Squall's words rebounded like thunder inside her aching head.

She'd messed up. Bad.

She hadn't meant half the things that had come out of her mouth, especially not the parts that sounded like she was a cold-hearted gold digger. She should never have confronted him drunk, no matter how badly she'd wanted answers. It never should have come up at all.

Her eyes welled with tears as she remembered the way the pain in his eyes had back-built like a thunderstorm as she'd struck at him. She'd never hit him before. Not like that. Now she would have to live with the hurt she'd caused and all the words she couldn't take back.

"I'm so stupid," she muttered to herself.

A cold, we nose nudged her ankle and she sat up as Angel belly crawled across the comforter toward her. She gave Rinoa's cheek a friendly lick as Rinoa greeted her with a scratch behind the ear. Angel's tail wag made the whole bed shake that unsettled Rinoa's queasy stomach even more.

"I forgot all about you, sweetie," Rinoa said. "I'm going to be a terrible mother, aren't I?"

The dog nudged her, tail still thumping, and let out a whine of agreement.

"Okay, okay," Rinoa said. "I'm up."

In the mirror, her face was a mess of black streaks from where her mascara had run. She wiped it off as best as she could and then went to the closet to dress. She pulled on a tennis skirt and a matching top because it was the first thing she encountered, then headed downstairs with Angel close at her heels.

"I owe you big time, girl," Rinoa told the dog as she entered the foyer. "Maybe I'll have the kitchen make you a steak dinner. Would you like that?"

Angel wagged her tail in response and her ears pricked with interest.

"They'll probably think I'm crazy," she said. "A crazy rich lady who feeds her dog lavish steak dinners with all the fixings."

The dog grinned and wagged her tail as though in agreement.

"I guess when you're rich, you're allowed to do crazy things, right girl?"

Rinoa let the dog outside and Angel tore across the back lawn to chase after some ducks.

Nearby, Raijin and another young man worked on the security system. She wondered if she should go greet them. It had been years since she'd last seen or spoken to Raijin, but she'd always liked him. She found it odd that Squall employed someone who had once been an enemy, but then again, maybe Squall hadn't remembered him either.

She decided against a greeting. Her head hurt and she wasn't feeling social, nor did she have a lot to say. All she really wanted was to spend the day in bed and feel sorry for herself.

"Rin? Wait up!"

It was Zell. She smiled as he crossed the grass toward her. She didn't particularly want to talk to him, either, but it wasn't all that often she got to see her oldest and dearest friend. Even if he was working, it was nice to have him around.

"Hi," she greeted. "Thanks for dragging me home last night. I probably would have made a total fool of myself if I'd stayed."

"Yeah, you were getting pretty sloshed," he said with a weak smile. "You look like hell, by the way."

"Do I really look that bad?"

"Eh, we've all had our moments."

"Can't blame Irvine this time, can I?"

Zell chuckled. "Nope."

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants and cast a glance around the property. He frowned at Raijin but didn't comment.

"I gotta ask you some stuff when you're up for it," he said. "Wanna meet me in the library?"

"Yeah, just let Angel take care of her business and I'll be there in a few," she said.

Zell wanted a list of everyone she associated with, from the most minor of contacts to people that she conversed with frequently. It was a long list and the process of remembering everyone was painstaking. She wasn't sure why this was important, but if it helped figure out what happened and why, she was game to give him as much information as she could.

"Your housekeeper's mother has filed a missing person report with the Dollet PD," Zell said. "Any idea where she might have gone?"

"No," Rinoa said. This was the first she'd heard of a missing persons report, and her worry for the girl kicked up a notch. "It's not like her to take off."

"Think she may have been involved?"

"Marilee?" Rinoa asked. "No way. She's a nice girl. Single mom. I don't think she'd risk getting caught up in something like this."

"They're questioning her boyfriend," Zell said, "but he says the last time he talked to her was on the phone, earlier in the day. We have no footage of her leaving the property, but the cameras were down in spots because Squall was working on the system."

"I hope she's okay," Rinoa said. "She's a nice girl, Zell."

Zell sat back in his chair and chewed on his thumb nail.

"Rin, why hasn't your husband come back?" he asked. "Don't you think that's weird? If it were my wife, I wouldn't want to leave her side after something like this."

"He's working on brokering a deal with Bartz Manufacturing," she said. "It's a huge deal, Zell. If it goes through, it will bring more than a hundred jobs to Timber. If he backs out to be here with me, I'll never forgive myself. Timber  _needs_  this deal."

At least, this was what Rinoa told herself. That Ian had stayed in Galbadia because she wanted him there, but the subject hadn't come up at all during the handful of short calls between them. Even if it had, she would have insisted he stay. She wanted this deal, and she wanted it badly because Timber needed it.

"Still," Zell said. "There's no way I'd leave my wife to handle something like this on her own, deal or no deal."

"It's what I want," Rinoa said firmly.

* * *

Squall woke well after the sun was up. Lily was already dressed and on the back patio, an array of brushes and tubes of paint spread out before her. She smiled as Squall approached, unaware of the streak of ocean blue paint on her chin.

"Morning," she said. "I made some coffee. Should still be warm."

"Thanks," Squall said. He wiped the paint from her face. "What are you working on?"

"An oil landscape," she said. "For Rinoa."

He cringed at the mention of Rinoa's name. The last thing he wanted was for Lily to get hurt.

"Make sure you get your homework finished up today," Squall said. "School tomorrow."

"Do I have to?" Lily whined.

"Yes," Squall said. "You have to."

"Can't you tell them I'm sick?

"No, I can't. You need to go back before you get too far behind."

Lily threw down her paintbrush and stormed off to her room. The door slammed and loud music began to play from inside. Squall didn't bother to reprimand her, even after he distinctly heard her yell, "You suck!"

Were all girls this moody and difficult? Maybe he should ask Zell. His oldest daughter was about Lily's age, perhaps he had some advice to give on the subject.

He checked his phone to see that he had a couple of missed calls from Seifer and rang him back.

"About time you called back," Seifer said. "Don't tell me you slept in."

"I did," Squall said. "What's up?"

"Just finished reviewing the files you sent," Seifer said. "What the hell have you gotten mixed up in?"

"Told you it was different."

"If by different, you mean really fucked up, then yeah, it's different all right."

"What are your thoughts?"

From the other end there was a rustle of paper and a pause before Seifer spoke.

"I don't think this is mob related," Seifer said. "They all have their trademarks, and open heart surgery ain't one of them."

"You sure about that?" Squall asked. "Maybe someone new or you've never heard of?"

"Maybe, but typical mob calling cards are fairly simple," Seifer said. "East Galbadia just shoots people in the back of the head, execution style. Galbadian Triad will leave a bloody hand print on the victim's door before they kill them."

"That's disturbing," Squall said. "What about outside Galbadia?"

"Well, The Estharian Crescent likes to cut off a victim's hand and send it as a message. They put it in a gift box, wrapped in tissue paper, with a big black bow on top," Seifer said. "They're the most creative in the bunch."

"Nice."

"This is just too damned complicated," Seifer concluded. "The quote from the Book of Hyne suggests something else, for sure."

"So a cult, then?" Squall said.

"That would be my guess," Seifer said. "Seems ritualistic. Like there's a purpose behind it. Though, most of the hate groups are just fanatics who love to hear themselves talk. They don't usually do shit like this."

"Any of them violent?"

"None that I've heard of," Seifer said. "None recently, anyway. Unless you count the ones that spike a bowl of punch or batch of brownies with poison and commit mass suicide on some compound in the woods."

"That's a pleasant image," Squall said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "You got any other ideas?"

"Well, I'm meeting someone in Dollet tomorrow night," Seifer said. "You think you and me and the Chicken-wuss can sit down somewhere and go over what you've got?"

"I don't have a problem with that," Squall said.

"What about Dincht?"

"If he has a problem with it, I'll make sure it's resolved before you get here," Squall said.

"Punch him a few times, he'll get the message."

"I'm not gonna hit him."

"You're no fun," Seifer said. "Anyway, I know a Centran place near downtown. I'll give you the address and meet you there."

"Here would be better," Squall said.

"Not for me, it wouldn't," Seifer said. "Rinoa would probably take my head off if I set one foot near the place."

As Squall pulled on his boots, he wondered if that was true. The details of what Seifer had done to her were about as clear as fog.

"She still that pissed at you?"

"After what I did to her, do you blame her?"

"Guess not," Squall said "Can we make it six? I'm gonna have to get a babysitter for Lil, and I don't want her to be up too late."

"That works for me," Seifer said.

"Fine. See you then."

* * *

Lily was especially difficult to get up the next morning, and she fought Squall every step of the way. By the time Squall put her in the truck to drive her to school, they were late and her attitude had soured Squall's mood to the point where he was about to snap.

"I don't understand why I have to go," Lily said. "They don't want me there, they don't like me and everyone sucks except Miss Brandon. This isn't fair!"

"Lil, I don't have time for this," he said as he pulled to a stop in front of the school. "Please don't start anything today, okay?"

"Why do you care?"

"Lil, really?" he asked.

"If you cared, you wouldn't make me go to a place I hate every day."

"Look, if you hate it that much, I'll look into another school when I get the chance," Squall said. "But until then, you have to put up with it."

"Why?"

"Because that's life," Squall said. "Sometimes we have to do things we hate and spend time with people we can't stand."

"I knew you couldn't stand me," she grumbled as she opened the door.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Whatever."

Squall reached over and grabbed hold of her arm to stop her before she could get out.

"Lily."

"What?"

"I like having you around," he said. "Don't ever think I don't."

"Whatever," she said as she wrenched away and got out of the truck. "I don't care."

Damn it. Just when he thought he'd made some progress, the attitude was back.

He waited until she went inside, then returned to the Delacroix Estate to prepare for his interviews with potential replacements. Rinoa was supposed to take part in them, but he wasn't ready to face her. It was better to narrow down the candidates first, then let her sit in on the second interviews. It would limit their time together, and he could weed out the less qualified candidates before she got involved.

It was tedious. Out of six interviews, only two were worth moving forward with. By the end of it, he was drained. There were few things that he enjoyed less than having to talk to people all day and it had a way of sucking all the energy out of him.

He returned a couple of phone calls, one to the lead investigator on the Dollet side of the case and one to Florian Delacroix. Both had pertinent information that he needed to share with both Seifer and Zell, but he decided to wait until later to go over it.

By the time he was done, it was time to get Lily from school. She was just as sullen when he picked her up as she'd been that morning. He asked about classes and her homework, but she refused to give more than short answers to his questions. The whole way to the townhouse, she stared out the window and refused to look at him.

"Why are we here?" she asked as Squall parked the truck on the street in front of the townhouse. "Are you done with the job already?

"I've got something to do tonight," he said.

"A date?"

"Not a date," he said. "Work stuff. It's easier for the babysitter to look after you here."

"What?" she asked. "Why?"

"Because I won't be able to check on you tonight," Squall said. "You have homework?"

"Yeah..."

"Then get started on it," he said. "I'll be upstairs for a few."

She flopped down on the couch and heaved a dramatic sigh. Squall chose to ignore it. What the hell was he going to do with her?

In his room, he grabbed a few personal belongings, including the gunblade that hung on the wall. It had been little used in recent years and could have used a good cleaning, but was otherwise in good repair. He doubted he would need it, but it wouldn't hurt to take it. Just in case.

Back downstairs, the babysitter had arrived. Squall issued a few instructions, most involving Lily's homework. If she had her way, she would put it off until bedtime and paint instead.

"I'll be back to pick you up later," Squall said. "I won't be too late."

The only response he got was a sullen glare directed at the wall.

"Homework first," he reminded her. "And if there's anything you want to take with you, go ahead and pack it. Use the spare bag in the hall."

Back at the Estate, he gathered the files and organized them in a black messenger bag. Zell joined him, the black jewelry box from the night before in his hands.

"Rin gave me this to put back in the safe," Zell said. "Says it has to go to the jeweler for repair but not to worry about it."

Squall took it and showed Zell the safe in the library. Impressed, Zell gazed around at the odd assortment with wide, envious eyes.

"How much do you think all this is worth?" Zell asked as he lifted the cover off a massive painting. "Gotta be millions. Or more."

Squall would bet most of it was priceless, but he didn't say so. People didn't keep items of lesser value in a vault like this.

"Don't know, don't care."

He opened the jewel safe and then the box he was to place inside. The fine necklace was broken and two or three dark hairs were caught in the delicate chain.

"Doesn't it bother you to be here and see all this?" Zell asked.

"Trying not to think about it," he said as he placed the box on the shelf and closed the safe.

"Her husband's a good guy, but..."

"Stop," Squall said. "Please."

"I'm sorry," Zell said. "I guess this must suck."

It sucked all right, and Zell bringing it up didn't help.

"We should probably go. Hyne help us if Seifer gets there first."

"I still can't believe you're making me do this," Zell said. "Or that you're buddy-buddy with the same guy that used to replace our shampoo with fry grease from the cafeteria."

Squall had forgotten about that. Not everything Seifer had done to make his classmates miserable had been violent. Pranks, mostly, like the time he'd mashed a peeled banana into the toes of Squall's boots. Irritating and gross maybe, but harmless. In hindsight, Seifer had probably learned a thing or two from Ellone when they were little.

Squall didn't want to think about Ellone. That was too hard and Squall needed to focus.

"People change."

"Not that much," Zell said.

Squall arranged for the driver to take them to and from the restaurant. In the back of Florian Delacroix's limo, Squall wished for all the world he'd been able to provide Rinoa with this level of financial comfort. If this was the life she'd wanted, he would have gone to hell and back to make it happen. He would have sold everything he had and would have worked his ass off to buy Timber's freedom if it meant they were together. Whatever it took to keep her with him.

Zell poked him in the arm and gave him a questioning look when Squall failed to notice the car had stopped moving. Squall had gotten lost in his thoughts and hadn't even realized they were parked in front of a modest eatery in a working class section of town.

As they got out of the car, Squall hoped he wouldn't have to break up a fight between Zell and his former nemesis. Zell had promised he would keep his cool, but if memory served, the two of them together was a brawl waiting to happen.

Inside, the restaurant was empty and Seifer was nowhere to be seen.

"Are you Mr. Leonhart?" the hostess asked.

"Yes."

"This way, please."

They followed her to a back room that featured a table that could accommodate twenty. At the far end, Seifer was halfway through a glass of whiskey. Seated next to him, a blow-up doll in a halter top and black lace panties.

Squall repressed the urge to laugh. He would not give Seifer the satisfaction.

"I see you brought a date," Squall as he dropped his bag at the far end of the table.

"Thought you might enjoy some company," Seifer retorted.

"She's more your type, don't you think?" Squall asked. "Vacant. Blonde. Head full of air?"

"Well you're feeling sassy tonight, aren't you?" Seifer said with a grin.

It was then that Seifer turned his attention to Zell, who stood behind Squall looking as though he didn't know whether to fight, run, or laugh.

"Long time, no see, Chicken-Wuss."

"Blow me, Lap Dog."

"You wish," Seifer said. "But if you're nice, maybe Madge here can help you out with that."

Zell let out a growl as Seifer gave the blow up doll a pat on the head, and Squall cut his eyes at Zell -a silent reminder to let it go. Squall refused to have to break up a fight involving a scantily clad inflatable sex toy.

"Took the liberty of ordering the Centran sampler," Seifer said. "Sorry, Dincht. No hot dogs, but you could always order from the kid's menu if you really want one."

Zell cracked his knuckles.

"Down, boy," Seifer said. "It was a joke. You do know what that is, right? Haha, funny, everyone laugh?"

"Cool it, Almasy," Squall said with a sigh. "We have work to do."

Squall spread the files along one end of the table and went over all the things they already knew and then presented them with the fax that Delacroix had sent him earlier in the day. There were twelve messages in the batch. Each message was composed of letters cut from magazines and newspapers pasted on a plain sheet of paper, like something out of an old detective movie.

"Delacroix says he's been receiving these at his Deling City office for the last few weeks. Most arrived while he was away in Esthar," Squall said. "Post mark is local, Dollet main office downtown."

"I'll see if any of their contacts are associated with anti-Sorceress activity," Zell said. "I kind of doubt I'll find anything, but we'll see what comes up. Might get lucky."

Seifer opened his mouth to say something smart, but Squall silenced him with a look.

Squall spread the messages out on the table for them to read and Seifer's snort of disdain reflected Squall's initial feelings upon reading them earlier. Just about every one was a trite echo of every bad Sorceress movie ever made.

_Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live._

_Hyne's legacy is the rock on which the theocracy shatters._

_Abashed Hyne stood, and felt how awful goodness is._

_Only the flames of righteousness can purge the corruption of Sorcery._

All were tired phrases from various sources. The whole world had seen them in one form or another over the years. Nothing new. Nothing truly interesting.

The final one contained only a single word. This stand-alone was far more ominous to Squall than any of the flowery and cliché lines before it.

_Burn._

"How original," Seifer said. "We've got quotes from shitty movies, the Book of Hyne, and extremist epic poetry. You'd think people capable of cutting out a man's heart might come up with something more creative than this."

"Original or not," Squall said. "I doubt the people responsible are about to give up."

"Rin doesn't know about this, does she?" Zell asked.

"No," Squall said. "Delacroix didn't want her to worry."

"She needs to know," Zell said. "All this is directed at her."

"I agree," Seifer said. "She's not stupid. She's got to know something's up."

"I'm sure she does, but Delacroix didn't want her to know," Squall said. "For now, this stays with us."

The waitress arrived and took drink orders. Since he wasn't driving, Squall indulged and ordered a vodka tonic before Seifer could badger him into it. Zell ordered an iced tea.

"Not drinking, chicken-wuss?" Seifer asked.

"I'd rather not," Zell said.

"Bullshit," Seifer said. "Bring us a round of hot shots and a whiskey for the Chicken-head."

"Yes sir," waitress said as Zell glowered at him.

"Relax, Dincht," Seifer said. "I'm pretty sure I'll like you better drunk."

"Pretty sure I'll still hate your guts."

"That hurts my feelings."

"Sociopaths don't have feelings."

"You've gotten mean in your old age, Dincht," Seifer said with a grin. "Now I'm really hurt."

"Can we get back on track?" Squall asked. "Focus, please?"

"All work, no play," Seifer said.

Squall ignored him and turned to Zell. "What's the status on the missing maid? Any word?

"Vanished," Zell said. "The last time I could find her on camera was around one in the afternoon. Kitchen staff says they saw her around four, but no one saw her after that, and she didn't leave with the day crew like usual."

"Think she was involved?" Squall asked.

"I don't know, maybe," Zell said. "The cops are questioning her friends and family. So far, everyone's said she's a nice girl, kept to herself, didn't have a mean bone in her body."

"Go back further. See if you can find anything that looks suspicious," Squall said. "I know it's a long shot, but see what you can find. In the meantime, make sure one of your guys has Rinoa in his line of sight twenty-four-seven, or is at least posted outside the door of her room."

"On it," Zell said.

The drinks came and Squall saw that the "hot shots" were hot peppers, de-seeded and filled with grain alcohol. He made a face and cocked an eyebrow at Seifer, who grinned back at him.

"Hope you're not driving," Squall said.

"Naw," Seifer said. "My date's going to pick me up later."

Squall heard the hint in Seifer's voice. It was an invitation to ask questions about said 'date' but Squall didn't bother. He really didn't need or want to know what Seifer did in his off time, or with who.

"What the hell do I do with this?" Zell asked as he stared at the pepper with suspicion.

"What do you think, stupid?" Seifer said. "Shoot it. Eat it."

"I'll pass," Squall said.

"Chicken-wuss?" Seier asked. "You gonna wimp out, too?"

"If I take Squall's shot will you stop calling me that?" Zell asked.

"...maybe," Seifer said. "But you have to eat both of them. Without flinching."

"Fine."

Squall watched Zell take both shots and then eat both peppers like they were popcorn. Zell flashed a cocky grin as though he hadn't just ingested two brutally hot Centran peppers that had a reputation for rendering most incapable of speech after one bite. Seifer stared at Zell for a minute, and if Squall wasn't mistaken, Seifer was rather impressed.

Seifer wasn't so composed when it was his turn. He tried. He really tried, but as he chewed the pepper, his ears turned red, then his face, and he started to cough. Squall just rolled his eyes, glad that he'd passed on this display of idiotic machismo.

"Mine was hotter than yours," Seifer choked out.

"Yeah, yeah," Zell said with a grin. "If you say so."

It was ridiculous, but if it helped the two of them get along, Squall was willing to allow them their bonding moment, as moronic and childish as it was.

"Can we get back to work now?" Squall asked. "I've got other information to share."

He laid out the toxicology reports for the two dead men who had attempted to attack or possibly kidnap Rinoa. Seifer and Zell each took a report and looked it over in silence.

"Trace amounts of Funguar in their bloodstream?" Zell asked. "Like, those creepy mushroom thingies?"

"Exactly like," Squall said. "Apparently, it's a rare but powerful hallucinogen."

"These guys were high as fuck," Seifer said. "If they took that much, they were probably seeing like, purple Geezards and blood thirsty moombas and shit."

"Have some experience with that, do you?" Zell asked.

"Once.  _Never_  again," Seifer said. Squall stared at him in disbelief. "What? It was a long time ago."

"Oh, this is a story you're gonna have to share," Zell said.

Seifer sighed and took a long swallow of his drink before he spoke.

"I guess we were about 15, Raijin got a hold of some spores or pollen or whatever the hell it is, and we thought it would be fun to try it," Seifer said. "Seeing random shit sounded like a good time, you know? Except, I wound up naked on his neighbor's lawn screaming about flying death monkeys while Raijin sprayed me with a garden hose because he thought I was on fire."

"Flying death monkeys?!" Zell cried, doubled over with laughter.

"It wasn't funny...at the time," Seifer said. "Shit wouldn't stop, either. Just when I thought I was coming down, it got weird again. I was fucked up for like, sixteen hours and I didn't even have that much. Hyne knows what those guys were seeing. I'm sure it was...interesting."

"They were still functioning well enough to carry out whatever their mission was," Squall mused. "Find out if there are any cults that use this stuff on the regular. If not, maybe these two acted alone."

"Naw, they couldn't have," Zell said. "Estimated time of death for the Ironclad guys is roughly about the same time these two showed up at the Delacroix Estate. I already checked it."

"Okay," Squall said. "So they're working with friends. Almasy, you look into the cult angle and dig up some research on this stuff. I want to know specifically what it does, how it's used, if there's some historical or ceremonial significance associated with it, long term effects, anything you can find. There's got to be some reason for it."

"I'll see what I can find."

The food arrived and they took a break long enough to eat and have another drink. Afterward, they spent some time throwing out ideas but none of them came up with anything new. They didn't have enough information or evidence to firm up a course of action and until they had something concrete, all they could do was research the details and hope it took them somewhere.

By the time the three of them headed out, both Seifer and Zell were drunk, but Squall was stone sober. Zell had Madge tucked under one arm and he swayed slightly as they headed for the for the car waiting at the curb.

"Almasy," Squall said. "Take your girlfriend with you."

"Nope. She's all yours," Seifer said with a grin. "Unlike Madge,  _my_  girl has a pulse. And a brain."

He inclined his head toward the vehicle parked behind theirs. Through the windshield, Squall could only make out a pair of slender hands on the steering wheel and long blonde hair resting against narrow shoulders.

"Blonde," Squall said. "What a surprise."

"This one's special, my friend," Seifer said as he cast a drunken grin toward the woman in the car.

"That's what you say about all of them."

"I mean it this time."

Seifer had a history of short but heated affairs with gorgeous blonde women. Every one of them had been deemed 'special' until he got bored and moved on to the next. Squall doubted this time was any different.

"I have to pick up Lily at the house," Squall said.

"And?"

"I don't want to have to explain," Squall said, hitching a thumb toward the doll.

"Hyne, you're such a killjoy, Leonhart," Seifer said. "Call you some time tomorrow if I find anything."

"Be safe," Zell slurred and gave the doll a kiss on the cheek before handing it over to Seifer. "Mkay, g'night, loveyoubye."

"I definitely like you better drunk," Seifer said.

"And I still think you're... Jackass," Zell said unevenly. "And your stupid _face_."

"Better than hating my guts, I guess."

"Oh, that too," Zell said. "Frickin... Lap dog."

"Good night, Chicken-wuss," Seifer said.

"I will fight you!" Zell bellowed.

Zell lurched toward Seifer, fists raised, but Squall caught the back of his jacket and reeled him back as Seifer snickered.

"In the car, Zell," Squall said with a sigh. To Seifer, "See ya."

* * *

Rinoa was getting ready for bed when there came a soft knock on her door. Hastily, she pulled on a robe and answered it, thinking it was Zell coming to ask a few last minute questions before she retired for the night. Instead, it was one of the patrolling SeeDs, Darryl Damius if she remembered correctly.

"Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Delacroix," he said, "But one of your housekeepers just informed me of a strange smell in the guest wing."

"A strange smell?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," the SeeD said. "Dincht and Leonhart aren't here at the moment, and I was wondering how I should proceed."

Rinoa wasn't sure how to proceed either. Leave it to Zell and Squall to handle when they got back, or investigate on her own? Logically, she knew she should probably lock herself in her room and wait for them to return, but that old impulsiveness reared its ugly head. It would drive her nuts to sit and wait.

"Let's go check it out," she said. "Angel, let's go girl."

She followed him to the second floor guest wing. Angel padded along behind her to the last room in the hall. As they stood outside the door, Rinoa detected nothing out of the ordinary as far as odors were concerned. She grew a little wary of Damius and wondered if she could trust him or not. She didn't know him, and while that was not necessarily a sure sign she was about to be lured into a trap, given recent events, she didn't take her safety for granted.

"You first," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," he said and opened the door.

The smell of something slightly spoiled wafted out through the door and Rinoa wrinkled her nose. It reminded her of meat that was no longer safe to cook. Not quite rotten, but certainly not fresh.

Angel sniffed the air with interest and padded into the room, nose to the floor until she reached a heavy wooden wardrobe. The dog's undue interest in the piece of furniture immediately sounded an alarm inside Rinoa's head, but she couldn't stop herself from going inside to investigate. Angel whimpered and pawed at the door and there was a horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of Rinoa's stomach.

"What's in there, girl?" Rinoa asked, afraid she already knew the answer. "Someone hoarding food, maybe?"

An agitated whine issued from the dog's throat. Something was in there. Against her better judgment, Rinoa reached out to grab the handle of the wardrobe and opened it.

At first, her mind could not process what she was seeing. She blinked a few times, unable to think or move as Angel gave an excited bark and sniffed the foul air. There was too much red. Red on a field of white.

When Rinoa realized what she was looking at, she opened her mouth and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally stole the quotes from other sources and altered them slightly to suit my purposes. Thank you John Milton (Abashed the Devil stood and saw how awful goodness was) – from Paradise Lost, and George Lincoln Burr (witchcraft was the rock on which the theocracy shattered) – in regards to the Salem Witch Trials. The fourth one is totally made up.


	7. Chapter 7

Zell was intoxicated enough that he no longer made sense. The things he said were either directed at Seifer, who wasn't even there, or attempts at conversation that were just random strings of words and phrases. Squall sighed and vowed never to let Seifer pressure Zell into drinking again. There was a reason Zell had declined in the first place.

When they picked Lily up at the townhouse, she found Zell's drunkenness hilarious and nearly knocked him over with an enthusiastic hug. Uncle Zell was her second favorite, second only to Seifer. Zell was the only one who would tell her stories about her mother without reservation, and Lily loved to hear them. He was also the only one who would allow Lily to dress him up and put make-up on him or color his tattoos with marker. Squall imagined the Dincht household was a mess of lip gloss, Zell-sized princess gowns and hair accessories and that Zell had no problem with any of it.

Not that Squall could judge. Both Zell's daughters were happy, sweet girls. He must be doing something right.

Back at the estate, Squall sent Lily to the cottage and walked a stumbling Zell back to the house. As they ascended the stairs to the second floor, a sharp, high-pitched scream echoed through the hall. Squall let go of the drunken martial artist and broke into a sprint, as Rinoa's hysterical screams increased in volume.

She was at the end of the hall in the guest wing, facing an open door with her back pressed against the opposite wall. Damius was with her and the young SeeD tried to calm her without success. Her shrieks grew louder the closer he got. From the look of it, Damius meant her no harm, but Rinoa was far too panicked to care.

Angel gave a sharp bark of warning at the well-meaning SeeD and pressed herself against Rinoa's legs with her teeth bared. Damius backed off as he spoke in soft tones to calm both the woman and the dog. Squall didn't blame him. He'd already seen what Angel could do to someone who threatened Rinoa and would no doubt do it again if necessary.

"What happened?" Squall demanded as he approached.

Rinoa stopped screaming at the sound of Squall's voice and her pale, scared face was full of relief as she turned his eyes toward him.

"Marilee," Rinoa said. "She's... She's... Oh, god, Squall... I can't even..."

"Damius?"

"I'll show you," the SeeD said. "It's in here."

Squall followed him into the room where he saw the reason for Rinoa's panic right away. Stuffed inside a huge wooden wardrobe was the body of a young woman. She'd been wrapped in a white sheet that was stained with a horrifying amount of blood. Her face was bloated and pale, but there was no mistaking the lace edged cap pinned over her reddish-brown hair. Dozens of long-stemmed red roses, fresh, from the look of them, surrounded the body.

Marilee had been dead a while. A few days, at least. Probably since the night Rinoa had been attacked. Squall was no expert, but he knew enough to figure an approximate time of death. If he were to guess, the girl had witnessed something or had gotten in the way the night of the attack, and she'd been killed for it.

The roses had  _not_  been there a while. They had to have been placed there some time that day. Each perfect bud was fresh, the petals firm and almost waxy.

These were the kind of roses one gave to a lover, the kind a man gave when he wanted to impress a girl, and Squall knew from experience, these were no grocery store flowers. These were expensive and from a quality florist.

If memory served, they were Rinoa's favorite. A bloom called The Blood of Hyne for it's deep, blood red petals, the rose was unparallelled in its beauty and color. Uncut, the shrubs boasted stems full of red tipped thorns that cut deep, as though the plant required blood sacrifice in exchange for giving up a bloom.

"Any flower deliveries today?" Squall asked.

"None that I'm aware of," Damius said.

"Have Akon find out," Squall said. "I'll check the cameras later."

Too many questions came to mind all at once, intertwined with flashes of the past. He'd given roses like these to Rinoa fairly often in their youth. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Any time she was pissed at him. For no reason at all. Because they made her smile. If Squall had a signature gift to express his feelings, it would be a dozen or two of this particular rose.

Either they had been chosen because of their name, or because someone knew of Rinoa's fondness for them.

"Call Detective Armstrong, Dollet PD," Squall said as he handed his phone to Damius. "Then secure the area. No one in or out until the police arrive. Not even Dincht."

"Yes, sir," Damius said.

"And don't touch anything."

"Yes, sir."

Out in the hall, Rinoa sobbed into her hands. Part of him wanted to comfort her, but he couldn't offer her that. Not right now. He had a job to do.

"She's been dead all this time, hasn't she?"

"Yes," Squall said. "They probably killed her to get to you."

Rinoa let out a pained whimper and pressed her hands over her eyes. A visible tremor passed through her and the knot in Squall's stomach tightened.

"Did you touch anything?" he asked.

"W-what?"

"In the room. Did you touch anything?"

"Just th-the handle on the w-wardrobe," she sniffled.

"Nothing else?"

She shook her head. "...no."

On its own, his hand reached out to glide over her hair and all the anger of the previous day melted away. Sympathy was not an emotion he was easily given to, but seeing her so shaken and afraid made him want to shelter her from this. Whether or not the young woman had been a friend or just an employee, he wished she hadn't been the one to find Marilee in this state.

"I can't..." she said. "Why is this happening?"

"You need to talk to your husband about that."

"Why?" Rinoa asked. "Why can't you tell me?"

Squall just shrugged. Delacroix had asked him not to discuss this with Rinoa, and he planned to keep it that way unless Delacroix instructed otherwise or told her himself. Even if he didn't agree with keeping her in the dark, she was not Squall's wife, and it wasn't his place to fill her in.

"What is he hiding from me?" she asked. "What's really going on here?"

"You should ask him that."

"Squall-"

"No. Ask your husband."

Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks and her expression turned bitter. She didn't need to be here.

"Come on," he said as he took her by the arm. "I'll take you to the cottage until the police are ready to speak with you."

He guided her down the hall and toward the stairs. Zell was where Squall had left him. The drunk man sat on a step, propped against the banister, eyes half-closed. Squall had to help him to his feet.

"Damn it," he swore under his breath. "Let's go."

In the guest house, he found Lily in pajamas in the middle of the living room, her eyes fixed on the television with a toothbrush in her hand. She took one look Rinoa's face and Zell's hooded eyes and blinked wordlessly at the trio. Squall did not want her in the middle of this, but he had no other option for the moment. He would rather leave two messed up adults in her care than for her be alone for the rest of the night while strangers combed the property.

"Lil, can you make some coffee?" he asked.

"Sure."

"Thanks," he said as he guided both of his charges over to the couch.

Zell flopped unceremoniously on one end and slumped over onto the arm rest, but Rinoa perched delicately on the edge of the other end, hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"So what do we do?" she asked.

"Wait here until we need you," he said. "And if you could...try to sober Zell up. Get some coffee in him. It's going to be a long night and I don't want you to be unprotected."

"Tell me what's going on," she demanded. "I deserve to know."

"I agree," Squall said. "But I can't."

"...I can make you," she said softly.

Squall stared at her and his pulse began to race at the thought of being forced to do anything. He thought of all Seifer's allusions to the control a Sorceress could exert over her Knight and of all the stories he'd heard of how a Sorceress could possess anyone she chose.

"Would you really do that to me?" he asked.

Her expression remained hard for a few seconds. Then she looked away and shook her head as guilt replaced the stubborn coldness in her eyes.

"No," she said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't like being kept in the dark."

"It's not my call, Rinoa," he said.

He turned away from her and joined Lily in the kitchen. The scent of fresh coffee filled the room and made him long for a cup. Weariness had already taken hold and he knew it would be a while before he could rest.

He watched his niece clean a dusting of coffee grounds from the counter and powerful surge of affection for her welled up in his chest. It was more than obligation he owed her. There was more than just a duty to Ellone to look after her.

It struck him the her behavior was his fault. If he'd treated her like a burden, he hadn't meant to, but maybe that was why she was so unhappy. She wasn't a burden at all, and he never wanted her to feel like she was a chore on a list of daily tasks.

A buzz from the pager on his hip alerted him that the Dollet PD had arrived at the gate and he sighed. Duty called.

As he glanced back at Lily, he noticed the dark bruise that bloomed on her left cheek. He stepped farther into the kitchen and turned her face toward his to take a closer look.

"What's this?" he asked as he dragged his thumb lightly over the injury. "You didn't get into another fight, did you?"

"...no," Lily said. "Girl threw a book at me on the playground. It hit me in the face."

"Why?"

"Because I ignored her," she said in a small, weepy voice. "She was saying mean things and when I didn't say anything back, she threw her history book at me."

"Why didn't the school call me about this?"

Lily shrugged. "Because I didn't tell them."

"You didn't tell your teacher?"

"They never believe me, so I didn't bother."

"Oh, Lil," Squall murmured. He had to go, but he didn't want to leave this conversation unfinished. "You should have said something earlier. I could have called the school."

"You were busy," she said. "I didn't want to bother you."

He dropped a hand against her bony little shoulder and bent down so that their faces were level. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"You can always bother me with stuff like this," he said. "Always, okay? And you can talk to me. About anything, any time."

"You run away when I try," she said. "Every time I ask you stuff, you change the subject or get weird."

"Only when it's stuff you don't need to worry about," Squall said. "This is a big deal, and I wish you would trust me enough to tell me about it. I can't help you if you don't talk to me or tell me what's wrong."

His pager buzzed again and he switched it off.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow, okay?" he said. "I want you to tell me exactly what's going on and why these girls are bothering you."

"Do I have to go to school?"

"We'll see," Squall said as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I gotta go. Don't let Zell barf on the couch, okay?"

Lily grabbed the small plastic trash can from under the sink.

"Got it covered."

* * *

Out on the patio of the guest house, Rinoa tried twice to get in touch with Ian, but he didn't answer. It was late and he was probably asleep, but she wanted and needed some answers. Whatever was happening, she needed to know the truth and nobody wanted to tell her anything. Her grief and guilt over Marilee was quickly turning to anger as she paced the patio. The longer her phone stayed silent, the angrier she got.

What had Ian kept from her? And why had he sworn Squall to silence? Why was she the only one who didn't know the details?

She might have believed the attack was a random incident if not for the roses in the wardrobe. Though the horrific moment was a blur, she was certain the roses were fresh, and they'd been left there to torment her. Whoever was responsible had been in the house and maybe, they were still in the house.

That was an unsettling thought. She had trusted her staff until now, and now they were all suspect. No one stood out as particularly suspicious, but that didn't mean one or more was an enemy.

Everyone around her had betrayed her by not telling her the truth. She wasn't a child and she wasn't helpless. Maybe, she could even contribute, but they all treated her like she was some fragile little princess when she wasn't.

When Ian finally called her back, Rinoa had worked herself up into a quiet rage and answered the phone, ready for a fight.

"Noni, I just spoke with Leo," he said. "Are you all right?"

"I'll be better when I know what the hell is going on."

Ian didn't answer right away, and Rinoa's patience ran out.

"Tell me the truth, Ian," she said. "This is my life we're talking about."

"...sit down."

"I am," she lied as she paced the deck. "Just tell me what's going on."

"For the last month or so, I've been receiving suspicious messages at my offices," he said. "Most of them pertaining to witches and whatnot. I ignored them, because Hyne knows, it isn't the first time some idiot made threats."

"They were directed at me?" she asked.

"Mostly," Florian said. "Leo has copies if you'd like to read them."

"What else?"

"You know the rest," he said.

"Why do I feel like you're not telling me everything?" she asked.

There was a long pause. So long, Rinoa thought he might have hung up on her.

"Ian."

"I've told you everything I know," he said.

Rinoa didn't believe him. Not even a little bit. There had to be more.

"You're lying to me!" she cried. "You're a terrible liar, Ian. I can hear it in your voice."

"I've made a few enemies," he said. "As have you."

"What do you mean?"

"Timber," he said. "Those who...profited from it's annexation to Galbadia aren't very happy about what we've done. Those enemies are trying to ruin me, financially speaking. Trying to undermine this deal with Bartz, perhaps sending threats, sending people after you. They want us to back off so that Timber fails on its own."

"People we know?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he said. "Perhaps not."

"Those are pretty extreme measures, Ian," she said. "Sending people to kill me? For what? Because it hurt their quarterly financial statement?"

"I don't know," he said. "All I know is that it does involve Timber. And you."

"I'm not going to stop," she said, indignant. "I'll help Timber, even if it means I have to live on a train again!"

"I wouldn't expect otherwise," he said with a soft laugh. "But... Just be careful. Make sure someone is with you at all times."

"They haven't left me alone for a second," Rinoa said. "Don't worry. Squall's doing his job."

"I never doubted," Ian said. "So, it's Squall now, not Leo?"

Rinoa bit her lip and closed her eyes. She should have remembered Ian knew him as Leo. He knew all about her past relationship with Squall Leonhart, and she mentally kicked herself for the slip.

"It's not a secret, Noni," Ian said. "I know who he is."

"How?" she asked, dumbfounded and a little scared.

If he knew who he was, why had he hired him? He had to be worried something might happen between them, that time spent alone might rekindle whatever spark was left.

"I'd be a lousy businessman if I didn't make it a point to know who was working for me," Ian said.

"How long have you known?" she asked.

"I knew when I hired him to do the security install."

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"Do I need to worry? Has he been unkind?"

"No, but..." Rinoa said. "We didn't exactly part on friendly terms, you know. I need a little heads up when you suddenly decide to hire the guy that used to be my Knight!"

"Used to be? I was under the impression that the bond was permanent."

Rinoa stumbled over to a lounge chair and sat. Ian had kept a lot of things from her besides the mystery of why she'd been attacked. She didn't understand the secrecy or why he had hired a man he knew she had a deep and maybe permanent emotional connection with. It made no sense.

"Why would you do that?" she asked. "Why wouldn't you ask me first?"

"Because I knew, no matter what, he'd protect you."

* * *

Squall walked the scene with the detective foot by foot and answered questions as he took photos for his own investigation. There wasn't much to tell the detective. Everything he knew about it was in this room.

A lot of the questions were about Rinoa and her husband. Her charity work, his business. It was all old news but things that the two of them could answer better than Squall could. Still, he patiently told the detective what he did know, all the while, he scanned the room for any clue they might have missed.

"There's something in her hand," one of the scene investigators said.

The roses had been removed from the body, revealing a deep, gaping wound in her chest. Squall knew without having to take a closer look that her heart had been removed from her body. Where it had gone was a mystery, but the bigger question was  _why_?

The item in the girl's hand was a folded up piece of paper. In blocky capital letters was the phrase:

" _INTO THIS WILD ABYSS THE WARY FIEND STOOD_

_ON THE BRINK OF HELL AND LOOKED A WHILE_

_PONDERING HIS VOYAGE; FOR NO NARROW FRITH_

_HE HAD TO CROSS"_

"Blood?" Squall asked of the deep maroon color the words were written in.

"Could be," the investigator said.

Squall wished Zell was sober enough to assist. In spite of his seemingly clueless nature, he was well read and almost always a fountain of information when it came to extraneous facts and archaic literature. Squall could have used a source for the passage, or at least a hint about where it came from and what it meant. This one seemed far more obscure than the rest and the meaning and context was lost on him.

He took a photo to show Zell later and stretched to relieve the ache of tired muscle in his back. This job was going to be the death of him.

A second investigator popped out of the adjacent bathroom. The young man was excited and looked like he'd discovered the secret to eternal youth.

"Pretty sure we just found kill site," he said. "The tub just lit up like it's on fire."

Squall peered around the door frame in time to see a fading, bluish glow smeared all over the walls of the shower and along the edges of the bathtub. There was a visible hand print near the tap, and several more bright smears above it.

Squall was familiar with this process. A chemical was sprayed over surfaces that otherwise appeared to be clean. If blood was present, a reaction with any lingering traces of it would cause a blue glow that lasted less than a minute but made it very easy to determine whether or not significant amounts of blood had been present.

Something nasty had happened in that bathtub. Unless Delacroix was a hunter that cleaned his kills in this particular tub, there wasn't much doubt in Squall's mind that this was where Marilee had died.

The timing of her death didn't add up in Squall's head. The guest hall camera had gone dark after the family wing camera. It was only minutes later that Rinoa had been attacked in her room and had been pursued by the second man. There was no time for either of them to have killed Marilee, cut out her heart and stuffed her in the wardrobe. He had already viewed and re-viewed all the camera footage from that day and had confirmed that only two people had arrived carrying Ironclad credentials.

Which meant there was a third person present that night, and Squall had missed it.

Silently, he cursed the deficiencies in camera coverage and wondered if anyone on the housekeeping staff might have known where those deficiencies were. If one of the live-in staff knew and had taken care to stay off camera, they could have pulled it off without much trouble. And if it wasn't someone internal, then there was an entry point Squall wasn't aware of and hadn't thought to cover.

"Where is Mrs. Delacroix?" the detective asked. "I think I'm ready to speak with her now."

"Follow me," Squall said, though he doubted Rinoa would have much to contribute other than the basic facts of what she'd found in the wardrobe, something that was more than plain to see already.

Rinoa sat on the couch between Lily and a sobered-up Zell with a cup of coffee in her hand. The way she looked at him when he walked in the door told him she'd spoken to her husband and hadn't liked what she'd heard.

"Lil, bed," Squall said.

"Why?"

"Because the detectives want to talk to Rinoa alone," Squall said. "Come on. I'll tuck you in."

With great reluctance, Lily got up and headed for the bedroom, put-out that she wasn't allowed to stay. Squall followed as the detective spoke with Rinoa.

"What's going on?" Lily asked as she climbed into bed.

"There was an accident at the house and someone died," he said. He saw no reason to lie to her. She was a smart kid and she would figure it out. "You don't need to worry about it."

"Someone died and you think I don't need to worry about it?" Lily asked.

"You don't," he promised, even as he wondered how safe Lily was here.

He had half a mind to send her to Laguna for a few weeks, whether she liked it or not. He would rather she suffer through some bonding time with her flighty grandfather than become a potential target or have to witness something she could never unsee. She would hate it, but she'd be more or less safe with Laguna. Though Squall had no confidence that Laguna would be able to look after her, nor that Lily would go without turning it into a huge deal.

He pulled the covers up to her shoulders and kissed her forehead and wondered if the smart thing to do was walk away from this and go back to his day job. None of this was his problem. He owed Rinoa nor her husband anything and in truth, he knew how risky it was to be here. The emotional cost of letting himself get swept up in all this drama wasn't worth what he'd gain. A few dollars for his sanity. A large cash investment in exchange for his soul.

Yet he couldn't just walk away. He was duty bound to finish it. He was tied to the Sorceress in the other room in ways he was only just beginning to understand.

"No school tomorrow, right?" Lily asked hopefully.

"Yes, school," he said. "I'm going to be busy and won't be able to look after you."

"I don't need to be looked after," she said. "I hate it there."

"I will be talking to the headmistress in the morning," Squall said. "I'll find out what we can do to help you."

"They're just going to tell you I started everything, even though that's a lie," she said.

"If we have to make different arrangements, we will," Squall promised. "But I need to get all the facts first."

"Why don't you believe me?" she demanded.

"I do believe you," he swore, "but I also know there are always two sides to the story."

Lily rolled over and turned her back on him. Even in the dim lamplight, the bruise on her cheek was plain to see.

"I'll take care of it," Squall promised. "Just stick it out until we can come up with a solution."

Lily said nothing.

"Good night, kiddo," he said as he got to his feet. "See you in the morning."

Back in the living room, a tearful Rinoa recounted her tale to the detective. Beside her, Zell listened in. When he saw Squall, he got up and motioned for him to follow him to the kitchen.

"Has Delacroix said anything to you about Timber?" Zell asked.

"Not that I recall," Squall said.

"He told Rinoa this whole thing is about Timber, that someone's looking to punish them for facilitating the liberation."

"News to me," Squall said.

"I think the guy knows a lot more than he's saying," Zell said. "If this is politically motivated, why all the burn-the-witch stuff and gruesome murder and hitmen hopped up on psychotropic substances? Why not just keep it simple?"

"I doubt it is politically motivated," Squall said.

"So we're sticking with the cult thing?"

"For now. Until we have something to suggest otherwise," Squall says. "Delacroix's opinion doesn't count until he tells us everything."

Zell raked a hand through his hair and grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry I got so screwed up," he said. "I'm not used to drinking so much anymore."

"Don't worry about it," Squall said. "Seifer has a way of forcing it down your throat."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Sadly, yes," Squall said. "Just pace yourself next time."

"Ugh. Won't be a next time," Zell said.

Squall pulled his camera from his pocket and cycled through the photos until he found the quote.

"What do you make of this?" he asked.

"Looks like religious poetry of some sort," Zell said as he read over it. "Maybe from _The Battle of Heaven and Hell_? I dunno. I'd have to look that one up. Not in my wheelhouse."

"Do some digging, when you get a chance," Squall said. "I doubt knowing the source will help much, but it might give us some context."

"Adding it to the list, boss."

By the time the Detective was done with Rinoa, she was weepy and tired.

"Why don't you get some rest?" Squall suggested. "You can use my room or I can have Zell take you back to the house."

"I..."

She didn't say it, but Squall read it in her face. She did not want to go back in the house.

"That's fine," he said. "I probably won't be sleeping anyway. Make yourself comfortable."

With that, he joined the investigators back at the house and left Damius to look after Rinoa and Lily while he filled Zell in on what he'd missed.

It was a long night. They went over every square inch of the room, reviewed footage, new and old, and eventually Squall sat down and took a look at the delivery log. There was nothing out of order, nothing that raised a flag except the absence of a flower delivery. Curious, he went back a week. If refrigerated, roses would keep for a while.

There had been a flower delivery every single day for the last seven days, except for today. He made a note to call the florist and get a detailed list of everything that had been ordered and delivered recently. Then, he watched the camera feed for the front door to correlate the deliveries with the control log.

It was tedious work. Near dawn, he found himself nodding off and realized he needed to head back to the guest house to get Lily up. A cup of coffee wouldn't hurt, either.

Back in the guest house, he brewed a fresh pot and went about the arduous task of getting Lily out of bed. She was especially sulky, to the point of belligerence. He endured it, sleepwalking through their morning battle without comment, except to insist she hurry it along.

By the time Lily was ready, Rinoa was awake. She'd been roused, by Lily's occasional loud protest at Squall's prodding.

"Not much of a morning person, is she?" Rinoa remarked as she helped herself to the pot of coffee.

"This has more to do with school," Squall said. "She doesn't want to go."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm handling it."

There was a long silence between them and neither dared look at the other as they sipped their respective mugs of coffee.

"About the other night," Rinoa said. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean-"

"You don't need to apologize."

"I want to explain," she said.

"I'm not interested in an explanation," he said.

He was too tired to deal with this. He didn't need to know her reasons nor did he need to put himself through another round of torture. There was a reason he'd made himself forget and there was a reason she had never come back. He didn't need to know all the answers.

"You don't want to know how I got here, or why I married someone else?"

"You made it pretty clear already," he said. "Just leave it alone. I don't want to argue."

"I'm not some power-hungry heartbreaker," she said. "Will you please just hear me out?"

"Right now, I have bigger things to worry about," he snapped. "Trying to figure out who wants you dead, for instance. Finding out why my niece came home with a bruise on her face and why she hates going to school. Those are far more important than rehashing something that's over and done with."

Rinoa sat down at the table with her face turned toward the floor. Her fingers slid toward her throat to grasp a necklace that was no longer there. Squall could picture it. Her mother's ring. His ring. Both kept close to her heart on a fine silver chain. When had she finally decided to take them off? Right after she'd left or some time in the more recent past? And what did it matter? It wasn't like it was important to know the answer, yet the question nagged at him.

"Why are you so afraid of me?" Rinoa asked.

"You know the answer to that," Squall said as he grabbed his wallet and his keys from the counter. "Lily, let's go! You're going to be late!"

The girl stepped out of her room looking like she was about to face an angry mob, book bag slung over one shoulder and her eyes on the floor. The bruise on her cheek was darker this morning, but that bothered him less than the tears in her eyes.

At school, Squall escorted Lily to her classroom and then demanded to see the headmistress. He was going to get to the bottom of this before it got any worse. Lily was not okay, and he had to fix it, one way or another.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No," he said.

"I've got an opening tomorrow-"

"I'll speak with her now, thank you," Squall said.

"Sir-"

"Or, she can speak with my lawyer," Squall said. "About why my niece was assaulted by another student and no one bothered to call me."

"Have a seat," the receptionist said. "I'll see if I can free her up for a few minutes. Your name again?"

"Leonhart," he said. "My niece's name is Lily Loire."

"Just a moment."

Squall didn't take a seat. He stood at the counter and watched the receptionist have a stilted, whispered conversation on the phone at the back. The woman cast worried glances his way as he stared stonily back at her.

"Ms. Jenkins will see you now," the receptionist said. "Right this way."

The headmistress' office was a dark wood-paneled affair, full of heavy dark furniture to match. On the walls, dozens of awards and degrees and certificates were displayed in cheap plastic frames, along with photos of the school, past students and various other memorabilia. Above the desk was a huge portrait of the school's founder. It was slightly crooked and a layer of dust clung to the paint. The overall effect of so much crammed into such a small, dark space tugged at Squall's sense of order and reason.

"I understand you're concerned about your niece," Ms. Jenkins said.

"She came home yesterday with a bruise she said was inflicted by another student," Squall said.

"She didn't report an incident to her teacher."

"No one noticed?" Squall asked doubtfully. "Even if no one saw the incident, someone should have noticed the injury."

"We have hundreds of students to look after, Mr. Leonhart. Sometimes things like this go amiss."

"It's a pretty big bruise," Squall said. "She says other students are bullying her."

"I assure you, it's quite the opposite," Ms. Jenkins said. "It seems Lily is nearly always the instigator, as reported by multiple students. The only reason she hasn't been expelled is because of who you and her grandfather are."

"My niece may be difficult, but she's never lied to me," Squall said. "Do you have proof of what these other students are claiming?"

"Just their verbal reports, and the incident last week."

"What about video footage?" he asked. "Witnesses?"

"That's not how we deal with-"

"Is it all the same students making these claims?" Squall asked. "Or different ones."

The headmistress was put off by Squall's questions and the way he kept cutting her off. He didn't care. He wanted facts, not word of mouth from a handful of kids.

"It's the same three girls," the headmistress admitted. "All three have reported that Lily has shoved them, hit them, said upsetting things to them... I understand your niece has suffered a great loss, but that's not an excuse to be violent with other children."

"These incidents have been documented?"

"Yes. We keep all incident reports in each child's file."

"I'd like to see them."

"I can't allow that."

"You can when it pertains to my child," he said.

"Lily isn't your-"

Squall silently dared her to finish that statement. By all rights, legal and otherwise, Lily was his. If this woman so much as moved the wrong way, he was going to verbally tear her to shreds.

"I want to see the reports," he said again. "And then I'd like to view the camera footage. If Lily has a problem controlling herself around other children, I need to know exactly what I'm dealing with so that I can get her help. If it's as she said, that the others are picking on her and you and your staff have failed to take her seriously, then I'll make sure that is handled appropriately too."

"I can't just-"

"You will, or I'll see you in court," Squall said.

With a sigh, the headmistress called up video feed on her computer. Squall was familiar with how the system worked, so he took over when the woman was unable to figure out how to rewind the feed. He watched over her shoulder as footage of the playground filled the screen.

Lily sat under a tree, drawing in her notebook. Nearby, two teachers sat on a bench, chatting between themselves, Lily in full view from their position.

Three girls came into the frame, and it was clear they shouted things at Lily. All three looked her direction and pointed and laughed when Lily did not acknowledge them. Her eyes remained on her drawing as the three moved closer. One girl nudged the other, and a book flew across the playground and hit Lily in the face.

Both teachers watched it happen. Neither got up to help Lily or scold the others.

It happened just the way Lily described.

"This is not the way we do things, Mr. Leonhart," the headmistress with false indignation. "I'll start a full investigation as to why nothing was done."

"What about these other reports?"Squall asked. "Where did the incident last week take place?"

"In the gym, I believe."

"Is there camera coverage there?"

"...yes."

"I'd like to see it please."

It was nearly the same thing. The three girls surrounded Lily, looks of malicious glee on their faces. Lily ducked her head and tried to push past them. One grabbed a handful of Lily's hair and gave it a hard yank. Lily spun on them and her mouth twisted into a scowl. A second girl shoved her and Lily stepped back, trying to avoid being pushed again but was blocked by a dark haired girl with a mean smile. Lily said something and one of the girls slapped Lily across the cheek. Lily's hand balled into a fist and she took a swing.

"Did these other three get suspended as well?" Squall asked.

"We... We weren't aware that this is how it happened."

"I believe Lily explained what happened, didn't she?" Squall asked. "You didn't think to verify?"

"There have been other incidents, Mr. Leonhart-"

"Incidents like the last two?" he fired back. "Where Lily supposedly started the fight? Looks to me like there's some favoritism going on here."

"It's nothing of the sort!"

"Looks like it to me," Squall said. "You have this footage, but you didn't watch it, you just blindly believed that my niece attacked three girls all on her own."

"Mr. Leonhart, I assure you-"

Furious with both the school and with himself, he got to his feet. He felt awful for Lily. She had put up with this for the last few months and no one, not even himself, had been willing to really look into it. No wonder she hated school.

"Save it," he said. "I've seen enough."

He wasn't sure what to do, but he knew one thing. He was going to have to find somewhere Lily would feel safe, and she was not safe here.

"Today will be her last day," Squall said. "I expect you'll be hearing from my lawyer."

He didn't mean the threat. Not really. No doubt, any camera footage pertaining to this situation would miraculously disappear. Mostly, he wanted to scare them into taking other reports seriously, in case there were other kids in the same boat.

"I assure you, that isn't necessary. Now that we are aware of the problem-"

"Save it," Squall said again. "I have all the proof I need."

He returned to the estate, drained but determined to make up for his own negligence and spent some time researching other schools in the area. He printed out the information on several private schools for Lily to look over when she came home, and then kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed.

There was a trace of Rinoa's perfume on his pillow. Rather than change the case, he allowed himself to be folded into it and imagined her next to him and that the years apart had only been a bad dream.

* * *

In his hotel room, Seifer set up his laptop on the desk while his companion took a long, hot bath. Something floral and soft, like rose petals wafted from the open bathroom door, and he thought of how nice it would smell on her skin later. He had half a mind to go jump in with her, but he had work to do. Nor did he much fancy smelling like flowers himself.

Beside him was the breakfast he'd ordered and had only picked at as his mind tried to wrap itself around all the details of this case. Zell had sent over a report of the night's events, leaving Seifer a little baffled.

On one had, Delacroix was said it was political. On the other, Squall believed it was more than that. Seifer was inclined to believe the truth may have been somewhere in the middle. Maybe it was someone who benefited from Timber's occupation, yet had ties to some less than savory organizations. If they could pin down who fit that profile, he was betting they'd find the person responsible.

He shoved a slice of cold bacon into his mouth and called up a search on the laptop to look into Funguar spores and their uses. He skimmed through a few boring and unhelpful biological break-downs before he found something that could be useful.

**Funguar Spores**

_Banned Substances_

_Class: Psychotropic_

_Funguar spores were once used in ancient Centran rituals to bring tribe warriors to a state of higher consciousness. Runes found at various dig sites suggest they may have been used in battle as well as in religious ceremonies. Little is known about the rites or what purpose they served, however it was either blended with other herbs and smoked or brewed into a tonic and ingested._

_It was more recently used as a treatment for various psychological disorders, such as severe depression, anxiety disorders and debilitating trauma. Results were varied as the substance provides vastly different experiences depending on the amount administered and the individual ingesting it. Because of this, a standard measurement of dosage was never put into practice, resulting in widely varied experiences among patients._

_Nearly all patients prescribed the spores reported visual and/or auditory hallucinations, with many of them experiencing varying levels of paranoia, from mild to severe. Use of the spores in psychological research was discontinued shortly before Adel's reign, after it was determined it was of limited use or effectiveness and had an extremely high incidence of dependance and addiction, along with increasing amounts needed to produce the desired effect._

_It is important to note that inhalation of unaltered spores will not cause a psychotropic response, though various status effects, such as sleepiness, have been well documented following exposure. In order for the chemical to work, the spores must first be dried and then heated at or above boiling point. Contrary to popular belief, setting a live Funguar on fire does not cause the attacker to experience hallucinations._

_Currently, the use of the substance in any form is strictly illegal and prohibited by law on every continent. Possession of even minor amounts is a felony in both Trabia and Galbadia and carries a minimum five year sentence. Distribution or harvesting of the spores carries a minimum of twenty-five years._

_This, of course, has not stopped the usage of Funguar spores for recreational purposes. Enthusiasts host "Tea Parties," in which the tonic is brewed and added to a vat of punch mixed with various types of alcohol. In these cases, mass hallucinations have been reported, with multiple people claiming to have seen the exact same vision while under the influence. Whether this is due to the power of suggestion or an actual phenomenon is unknown. It is particularly popular among University students in Galbadia, where the Funguar is most common._

_It is also rumored that several religious groups have adopted what they believe to be the old Centran rituals, though there is very little information on the actual practices. Many of these groups believe that by taking the substance, they will be visited by Hyne and receive a mission in His Holy Name. Those that complete their quest are said to be rewarded richly in the afterlife._

"Great. Religious nuts," Seifer said to himself.

He copied the entire document and sent it to Squall, then continued his search. He found a few tidbits and stories about things people had seen or done while high, some funny and some terrifying, but there wasn't much else. If any of the active cults used the stuff, they weren't advertising.

"What are you doing?" the woman asked behind him.

"Looking into something for Squall," he said. He turned toward her with a grin.

She was wrapped in a towel and his heart gave an involuntary squeeze. When he'd told Squall this one was special, he meant it. It wasn't just her long, supple legs or her full lips, or her cool blue eyes or even her long, thick honey colored hair. He loved all these things about her, but what he loved more was that she was smart, tough, and didn't take any of his shit. She didn't need him. She was there because she wanted him.

"Take off the towel," he murmured as he hit the snooze button on the laptop.

"That sounds like a command," she said. "I think you're forgetting your place, Almasy."

"You never commanded me," he said. "And you never will."

"We'll see about that," she said.

"You, of all people, should know that I don't take direction well."

Her lips curved into something that was almost a smile and she let the towel loosen just a little. It was a tease, a game they played. A battle for power. Dominance. Control. And he loved it, though in the end, he could never remember who had truly had the upper hand. And it never really mattered.

"You were a terrible student, Seifer."

"Are you going to punish me?"

She dropped the towel and Seifer let out an involuntary groan as he got to see all of her, from head to toe. Every part beautiful. All of her, perfect, even her scars. If this was how she punished him, he would take it and then some.

"Fuck," he murmured. "I was pretty awful, wasn't I?"

"The worst," she said.

"What about now?" he asked as he moved across the room. "Am I still the worst?"

"Undecided."

Her bedroom eyes did him in. He would do anything she asked. Except admit that he loved her. Anything but that. Even if it was true, he would never, ever have the courage to tell Quistis Trepe he was deeply, madly, passionately in love with her and had been since he was a boy.

Because if he did, then it would mean that she had thoroughly and soundly defeated him, and Seifer was not a man who gave up, even when he'd been beaten into the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote is from Milton's Paradise Lost.


	8. Chapter 8

Lily was uncharacteristically quiet when Squall picked her up from school. She stared out the window as he pulled out of the parking space, her arms wrapped tight around her middle and her forehead pressed against the glass. He'd never seen her more defeated or sad.

"Have a good day?"

"Same as always."

"Tomorrow will be better," he promised.

"Yeah, right."

"You don't want to know why it'll be better?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "Why will it be better?"

"Because you don't have to go."

"What?!"

Her excitement almost made Squall smile. Too bad she wouldn't like the rest of the news, but it was for the best. She didn't need to be in the middle of this mess and if he could arrange it, she wouldn't be.

"You don't have to go back," Squall said. "I'm pulling you out of classes."

"Squall, that's -"

"But," he cut in, "with everything going on, I may have to send you to Esthar for a while to stay with Laguna."

"What?!" she cried. "Why?"

"Because this work thing is getting complicated," he said. "I don't want you in the middle of it."

All Lily heard was  _I don't want you_. Her face crumpled and she glared out the window, arms folded and her eyes full of tears.

"I knew you were going to send me away," she said, bitterly. "Eventually."

"Lily..." Squall began. "It's only until I finish this job."

"Yeah, you say that now, but I know I'm going to wind up at Garden, or in an orphanage or an Estharian boarding school. You watch. I'll wind up just like you."

"That's never going to happen," Squall swore. "Not ever."

Lily was silent the rest of the way back to the estate, save the occasional sniffle. Squall tried to make small talk about some of the private schools he'd found, but Lily wasn't interested . The more Squall talked, the more withdrawn she became, and Squall didn't know how to fix it. She didn't say a word, and as he pulled into the driveway and parked, he wished he hadn't said anything about Laguna or sending her away. It would have been nice to be her hero for a change, instead of the mean, strict uncle.

Squall shut the engine off and got out of the truck. When Lily didn't follow, Squall knocked on the hood and motioned for her to get a move on. She got out reluctantly, and Squall noticed a slight limp as she favored her right leg.

"You okay?"

"Nothing a potion won't fix," she said.

"Did someone hit you?" he asked.

"Tripped me," she said. "I'm fine."

"Same three girls?" he asked.

"...yeah."

"I'll take care of it."

"Why?" she asked. "I'm not going back there, so there's no point."

"There is a point, but you don't need to worry it," he said.

Squall gave her a pat on the shoulder to reassure her and followed her to the guest house. Maybe, if it looked like everyone had a handle on things, and there was no new information to go over, they could do something fun that evening, just the two of them.

"Hey, Squall, one of the back exterior cameras is malfunctioning," Zell said over the radio. "Trying to get it back online, but I keep getting a system error."

Squall sighed and put a hand to his forehead. So much for a quiet evening.

"Be right there," he said into the radio. To Lily, "I'll be back in a bit. We'll talk about what we're going to do about school, okay? Then, maybe we'll go get dinner out somewhere."

"...whatever," she muttered.

It took half an hour to figure out what the problem was. Squall promptly fixed it, made Zell swear not to bother him outside of an emergency and returned to the guest house.

As he went inside, he braced himself for the coming discussion with Lily about what arrangements he planned to make for her safety. He tried not to be frustrated with her. It wasn't her fault and he even understood why she might be reluctant. Laguna was loving and kind to her, but he wasn't dependable. Part of that was his political duties, which required him to work all hours and travel on short notice. The other part was, well... He was Laguna, and Laguna still had his eyes on the horizon, on his next big adventure, or his latest novel and sometimes forgot about the small things.

"Lil?" he called. "Where are you?"

Her bag was next to the coffee table, but there was no sign of her. In the kitchen and grabbed a can of cola from the fridge, drank half and then returned to the living room.

"Come on, Lil," he called. "Let's talk."

Nothing.

He pounded on her bedroom door but was met with silence.

"Lily, come on," he said, knocking again. "Open up."

Still no answer.

When he opened the door, she wasn't there. The bed was neatly made, the room tidy, but Lily was nowhere to be found. Nothing was missing, nothing out of place. She wasn't in the bathroom, nor on the patio, or in his room. She'd never taken off like this before. Maybe she had gone to Rinoa, but with everything going on, he feared the worst.

Back in the main house, he found Rinoa in the library at her computer, a pen tucked over her ear.

"Hey," she said. "I was hoping to see you. I wanted to ask if Lily might be interested in giving me a hand decorating the clothing drive bins."

"I thought maybe she was already here."

"Haven't see her," Rinoa said. "Everything okay?"

"I'm sure she's around somewhere," Squall said. "Send her back to the guest house if you see her."

"Will do," Rinoa said. "Don't be too hard on her, Squall. Not today."

It was on the tip of Squall's tongue to snap at her, to tell her it was none of her business, but she didn't mean anything by it. It wasn't a criticism, just a gentle suggestion.

"Hard to believe it's been two years already," Rinoa said.

Two years...

"Oh, shit," Squall said and smacked himself in the forehead for being an idiot. "I completely forgot."

"I figured," Rinoa said. "You've been pretty busy. But... Maybe you should do something to honor Ellone's memory."

How could he forget such an important day? He'd rather not remember or acknowledge his sister's passing because it hurt too much, but it was a big deal to Lily. He'd meant to plan a trip to Winhill to visit Ellone's grave and he'd forgotten all about it. It wasn't possible now with everything going on, but he could have and should have been on top of it. Maybe he wasn't all that different from Laguna after all.

Scratch that. He was _nothing_  like Laguna.

"Come on," Rinoa said. "I'll help you look."

Rinoa, Damius, and Angel went off to search the grounds while he went to the control room. He rewound the camera footage until he saw Lily exit the guest house and head for the cliffs. She disappeared behind a rock and didn't appear on camera again.

With a heavy heart, he followed the path toward the cliff. He expected to find her nestled behind a rock overlooking the ocean. Instead, he found a steep, rocky path leading down. Crude steps had been carved into the cliff face, creating a narrow and somewhat treacherous trail that terminated on a small, rocky beach of black sand that was only accessible by said trail.

Squall could taste the salt on the breeze and sea spray misted his skin as waves smashed into dangerous rock formations that jutted out of the water. It was beautiful but tumultuous, the view something out of a painting. He imagined the waves slowly pulverizing the rocks to powder, forcing new pathways over time, the sea's fluidity deceptively placid but ultimately destructive. Just like a certain Sorceress he knew.

Lily sat on a low, flat rock at the far end of the beach, arms wrapped around her legs with her chin on her knees. The wind blew her dark hair into wild tangles that would be difficult to brush out later. Squall tried not to think about that as he crossed the beach and climbed up on the rock beside her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I completely forgot what today was. Forgive me?"

She shrugged as her eyes fixed on the horizon. She didn't say anything for a while. Neither did Squall. Mostly because he didn't know  _what_  to say.

"Where do people go when they die?" she asked after a while. "Is this all we get? Or is there really something else out there besides this?"

It was a deep question for a nine-year-old. One that Squall didn't know the answer to, nor ever really thought about. He'd been perilously close to death more than once, possibly actually dead in the case of Edea's ice shard, but he hadn't seen or experienced anything that could have answered that question for her.

"What do you think happens?" she asked. "Is there a heaven? Or it this it for us?"

"Never really thought about it," Squall said. "But, it would suck if this was all we got. I'd like to think there's more, but I don't know."

Lily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded. She sat there quietly for a few minutes and Squall became aware of the chill in the air. He stripped off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders to shield her from the cold.

"I miss her," Lily said. "I keep thinking I'm gonna wake up and she'll be, I don't know, making pancakes or doing laundry or something, and all this will be a dream."

"Yeah," Squall agreed. "Me too."

"...so you really don't want me here," she said softly.

"I didn't say that," Squall said. "I meant, I miss her too. Not that I don't want you."

"Sometimes it feels that way..."

Squall dropped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side. A sense of failure swept over him like a hard wind.

"You're all I've got, kiddo," Squall said. "And maybe I'm not good at saying stuff or being supportive, but that doesn't mean I'd change anything, or that I don't want you."

She sniffled and wiped her eyes again. Squall gathered her into his lap to put his arms around her and cradled her head against his shoulder. She felt small and fragile and breakable, like he could crush her to pieces if he held on too hard. A broken sob issued from her lips and it cut right through him. It wasn't often that Lily cried openly like this. A tear might be shed here and there, but she was usually quiet about it. But this was like she'd been holding back her grief and her anger too long and it had finally come to a breaking point.

Squall knew he was a hard person to live with, and it must have been even harder for her, to have to watch her mother die and then be sent to live with her grandfather, and then on to an emotionally repressed, clean-freak uncle after only a few weeks. Squall hadn't been able to deal with his own grief, let alone a heartbroken, scared little girl. Her whole life had been upended, and he'd expected her to snap back the way he'd been trained and conditioned to do. It hadn't been fair to expect that from her.

He'd thought that providing for her was enough, and he'd been a fool to believe that. It wasn't enough to merely put a roof over her head and provide three meals a day. That was what Garden had done for him and it hadn't been enough to make him a whole person.

No one had ever told him that it was okay to grieve. No one had ever said to him that it was okay to rely on others. He had grown up thinking he had to be strong and self-reliant, that he couldn't and shouldn't ever count on anyone. The use of GF's had allowed him to forget why he'd ever wanted more in the first place, but it hadn't erased the desire to close himself off.

He didn't want that kind of life for Lily. Ellone wouldn't want that that sort of emptiness for Lily any more than she'd wanted it for Squall. He knew, if he allowed it to continue, it would make the light in her burn out, leaving her wary and without the the ability to enjoy the world and the people around her. He might have been doomed, but that didn't mean she had to be.

They sat there like that for a long time. Lily cried and Squall tried to hold back his own grief and his sense of complete and utter failure as a parent. Slowly but surely, he'd let both Ellone and Lily down and it showed.

"I'm sorry, Lil," he said. "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you the way you need me to be. If there's some other arrangement..."

Lily sniffled. "What, like an orphanage?"

"...no, I'm just saying, if you think you'd be happier somewhere else -"

"Where?" she asked. "It's you or Laguna or an orphanage."

"I'd never let you go to an orphanage," Squall said. "Not ever."

"Then what are you saying?" she demanded as she turned to glare at him. Behind her anger was fear. As if she was afraid he'd be the next to abandon her. As if he would ever do that. "Where else would I go?"

"I don't know how to be a parent," he admitted. "I know I suck at this, but I'm trying."

"Are you going to send me away?" she asked in a small voice.

"Not if you don't want me to," he said.

Tears filled her eyes and she looked down at her hands.

"I don't want you to," she whispered, barely audible over the crashing waves. "I want to stay with you."

"Then you can," he promised. "For as long as you want."

He reached out and wiped away her tears, wishing to Hyne there was some easy way to convince her she wasn't a burden. He wanted her to feel wanted.

"You're not just some obligation to me," he said. "You are not just some kid I got stuck with. You're here because you matter to me, Lily."

Her face crumpled and Squall folded her back into his chest.

"For better or worse, we're in this together, kiddo. I know I suck at this, but I love you," he said. His voice cracked as he struggled not to lose it. "Don't ever think I don't love you, Lil."

He tucked his face against the top of her head and held her tight. His eyes burned with unshed tears as he realized Lily was more than just his sister's kid to him and that she mattered more to him than he had words to express.

"Who are you and what have you done with my uncle?" she asked after a few minutes.

In spite of himself, Squall laughed into her hair and pulled back to look down at her tear-stained cheeks.

"You've never said that before," she said. "That you love me."

"Doesn't mean it's not true," he promised. "So... You want to do something tonight? To remember your mom?"

Lily thought for a moment as Squall smoothed down her windblown hair.

"It's stupid, but...we used to do special dinner nights and invite people over," Lily said. "Like... Meatball Monday and stuff like that. Maybe, since it's Tuesday, we could do tacos."

"Taco Tuesday?"

Leave it to Ellone to do something like that. She'd always had a knack for making the best of it.

"Yeah," Lily said. "Maybe invite Zell and Rinoa, since they knew her?"

Squall was not keen on the idea of extending the invitation to Rinoa, if only because of how off balance he was when she was around. He didn't want to give her another opportunity to bring up the past, but he agreed anyway, for Lily's sake. If it made her happy, he would suffer through it.

"We'll have to hit the grocery store," he said. "But I think we can make that work. Why don't you go invite them while I get cleaned up?"

By the time Squall emerged from the shower, dressed and ready to go out, he found Rinoa and Lily in the kitchen with a cart full of supplies. It was on the tip of his tongue to protest but Rinoa silenced him with a look.

"Before you say anything, we had all this stuff up at the house, so there's no point in making an extra trip," she said.

"Zell coming?" he asked.

"He'll be here in a while. He wanted to finish up what he was working on first," Rinoa said. "Don't worry about a thing. Lily and I have this covered."

"Can you cook?" Squall asked warily.

He remembered a long ago attempt at baking that had set off the fire alarm and required the evacuation of Garden's entire second floor. Other attempts had not turned out so well.

"I'm no master chef," she said, "but I promise I'm better than I used to be. Besides, this isn't that complicated."

His eyes went to the smoke detector on the wall to ensure the little green light was on.

"Fire extinguisher's under the sink, Lil," Squall said. "Just in case."

"Mean!" Rinoa cried.

If memory served,  _Meany_  was next. Followed by  _Big Mean Meany_  if he failed to apologize.

"Not mean. Honest."

"You big mean meany!" Rinoa said, but her lips quirked into a smile. "I'll have you know I make great tacos. You'll see, Mr. Doubty Pants!"

"If you say so," he said. "I need to touch base with Seifer. I'll be in the living room."

"Seifer?" Rinoa asked, more curious than alarmed.

"He's my business partner," Squall said.

"Really?" Rinoa asked. "I didn't know that. I didn't even know you two were even in touch. Is he here?"

"Temporarily. Why do you ask?"

"Seifer's here?" Lily chimed in. "Can we invite him?"

Lily loved Seifer for some inexplicable reason. She was amused by his gruff, no bullshit attitude, and she was the only kid Squall had ever seen Seifer be kind to. Not that Seifer spent a lot of time with kids but something about Lily brought out the man's softer side.

Squall was about to say no to the invitation when Rinoa shrugged.

"Why not?" she asked. "If you trust him, than I guess I can too."

"I don't think..." Squall began, but Rinoa snatched his phone from his hand and began to scroll through his contacts.

"Give that back."

"Nope," she said as she placed the call and brought the phone to her ear.

A moment later, Rinoa was laughing at whatever greeting Seifer had offered, thinking it was Squall.

"Not recently, but I appreciate your concern," she said. "You'll have to explain later how that would even work."

Squall could only guess what kind of comment Seifer had directed at him and he really didn't want to know.

"It's Rinoa," she said and paused. "No need for an apology. I wanted to invite you to dinner... Of course I'm serious... No, I'm not going to decapitate you! Why would you think that? ….Oooh, well, yeah, I suppose I do owe you some kind of punishment. What? Well, I'm asking because Lily's having a memorial dinner for her mom...haha...sucker. I don't care. Bring her. The more the merrier."

Baffled, Squall leaned against the counter, and Rinoa flashed an unholy grin of triumph at him. It sent a pang of longing through him as he remembered that look meant she'd gotten her way. Beside her, Lily watched the conversation with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Perfect. We'll see you in a bit," she said. "Here's Squall. I think he wanted to talk to you... Oh, you know how he is. Frowning like I just got dirt on the carpet... Yep. Exactly. Okay, see you soon."

She handed the phone over back to him.

"All set," she said. "Lily, we're cooking for two more."

"Yes!" Lily cried.

 

* * *

 

Seifer hung up the phone and looked at Quistis, still thrown by Rinoa's invitation. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea or not, but he'd said yes because of Lily. And because he was curious about how Rinoa and Squall were getting along. Squall had been totally silent on the subject the last couple of days, which made Seifer suspect something was up.

"I haven't seen Squall in almost two years," Quistis said. "Rinoa... I barely remember her."

"You and Leonhart sure have done a number on yourselves," Seifer said. "Minds like sieves."

Quistis hit him on the shoulder, not so gently either, and scowled her disapproval.

"I love it when you make the teacher face," he said. "Brings out the bad student in me."

Quistis' eyes narrowed as he drew her closer.

"Same as any other day," she said. "When aren't you bad?"

"Then I guess I need some discipline."

"Stop it," she said. "Anyway, maybe I shouldn't go..."

"You don't have to," Seifer said. "But it might be nice to see old friends again."

"Never figured you for the sentimental sort."

"Come on. It's for Lily. Kid's had a rough go of it."

"Is that all?" Quistis asked. "There's no other reason you're not mentioning?"

"Why would there be?"

"The temptation of an old girlfriend?"

"Jealous?" Seifer asked. "I didn't figure you for the jealous type."

"I'm not."

"Liar," he teased. "Let's call it... Curiosity. Besides, Squall and Rinoa in the same room is sure to be a shit-show of awkward. You wouldn't want to miss watching him squirm."

Quistis sat down on the bed, prim and proper, hands folded over her knees. Seifer hadn't seen her look this insecure since their cadet days. How someone so deadly could look so innocent he didn't know, but Hyne, it was appealing.

"We don't have to tell them about us," Seifer said as he sat next to her. "If that's what you're worried about. I don't mind being your dirty little secret."

On the phone with Rinoa, he'd only mentioned dinner with a friend. They had their reasons for not making their relationship public, but Seifer didn't care one way or another. It was Quistis' reputation on the line, not his.

"What will we tell them?"

"I ran into you," Seifer said. "We decided to have dinner. The end."

"Think they'll buy that?"

"Squall and the Chicken-Wuss will," Seifer said.

"And Rinoa?"

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not. We haven't been in touch for years."

After a stop to get flowers for Lily, they arrived at the estate and checked in at the gate. As Quistis steered the car up the long driveway, she gasped at the size of the mansion and the surrounding property. He'd known Rinoa had married a billionaire, but he hadn't quite expected such a grand, extravagant home. The place was huge and the grounds were well maintained, the view of the ocean almost magical.

"Wow," Quistis said. "This is... Wow."

Squall greeted them as they exited the car and his face registered surprise as his eyes fell on Quistis. Quistis was equally surprised as she took in his appearance. Seifer was used to scruffy Squall, but Quistis was not.

"I barely recognize you!"

"Perk of owing your own business," he said. "Not required to shave."

"You look good," she said.

"So do you," he said. "Been a long time."

"Too long," she said.

"Shit, Leonhart, will you look at this place?" Seifer said.

"It's a little much for my tastes," he said. "Come on. Food should be ready soon."

Seifer expected to be taken to the main house, and he was curious to see the inside, but instead Squall took them around back to a small guest house next to the pool. Seifer grew nervous as Squall opened the door and led them inside. He wanted to reach for Quistis' hand but refrained. Giving away the game was not in her best interest. Showing weakness was not in his.

Inside was a comfortable, homey space with big plush couches. The scent of something delicious wafted out of the kitchen and Zell stood in the doorway, looking warily out at them. His face brightened when he saw Quistis.

"I didn't know you were coming," he said. "Come give me a hug!"

"I didn't either," Quistis said as she accepted Zell's embrace. "How's the mission going?"

"Aww, it's crazy. I'll spare you the details for now," he said and inclined his head at Lily.

Lily peeked around Zell and let out a squeal of delight when she saw Seifer. An instant later, she crashed into his legs. Seifer dropped down and lifted her up, hugging the only kid he'd ever felt any kind of fondness for.

"How you doing, Lils?" he asked and gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek.

Hyne, if she wasn't the spitting image of Ellone. He hadn't known Ellone as well as the others had, but he remembered her well enough. She'd been feisty in her own way. Seifer saw an echo of that feisty spirit in Lily, even if lately it was dulled by unhappiness.

"Keeping Squall out of trouble?" Seifer asked as he set her down.

"As if he'd ever break a rule," Lily said.

Beside him, Quistis hid a snort of laughter behind a fake cough.

"Some day, I want you to tell him that rules are made to be broken," Seifer said with a grin, "then sit back and enjoy the show."

Lily giggled. "I don't want him to blow a gasket. Who would I live with then?"

"With me, of course," Seifer said. "We'd make a great team."

"Double trouble?" she asked.

"You bet," he said as he mussed her hair. He held out the flowers. "These are for you, squirt."

"Really?" she asked in surprise.

"Don't make a big deal out of it."

"No one's ever given me flowers before," she said. "Thanks!"

"Why don't you go put those in some water," Squall suggested. "And go check on dinner?"

"Whatever," Lily said. "We're not going to burn the house down or anything."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think she was actually your kid," Seifer said to Squall.

Squall frowned but didn't take the bait. Sometimes Seifer wished Squall wasn't so damned serious all the time, but then again, that would take all the fun out of it. The basis of their friendship was their differences. Squall was the voice of reason, Seifer the devil on his shoulder, whispering bad ideas and suggestions in his ear whenever the opportunity arose.

Speaking of which.

"Sorceress got your tongue, Leonhart?" Seifer asked. "Awfully quiet."

"Don't wanna talk about that," Squall said. "Want something to drink?"

"I'll take a beer if you have it."

"Quistis?"

"Same," she said.

It was then that Rinoa decided to join them. They stared at each other for half a minute and Seifer wondered if she actually did plan to take him out. Then, her face broke into a sunny smile and she stepped forward to throw her arms around his waist. He returned the embrace, a little surprised at how easily she forgave what he'd done to her.

"You look great," she said as she pulled back to look him over. "How are you?"

She asked as though she genuinely wanted to know. Seifer didn't know why. Rinoa owed him no kindness and no understanding. Yet she was happy to see him.

That was an unexpected burden lifted from his shoulders. He hadn't known how badly he needed her forgiveness. She'd been a good friend once upon a time and he'd always felt guilty for betraying her, whether or not it was his own doing.

"Can't complain," he said.

"Seifer didn't tell me you were coming," Rinoa said to Quistis and offered the taller woman a hug. "He just said he was bringing a friend."

"I hope I'm not putting you out," Quistis said.

"Are you kidding me?" Rinoa cried. "I'm so happy to see you. It's been way too long."

"It has," Quistis said. "Almost, what, seven years?"

"Eight," Rinoa said "I think the last time was Zell's wedding."

Quistis blinked at her and Seifer knew she'd drawn a blank. She wasn't as bad off as Squall, but there were holes in her memory, too. Sometimes, Seifer wondered if that was what allowed her to be with him now, but then, she remembered way too much about him for that to be true.

Seifer was glad he'd never become a SeeD or used GF's as extensively as the others. While there were things he wished to forget, he would rather remember the bad times than forget everything. Keeping the good memories was absolutely worth having to face the bad ones from time to time.

 

* * *

 

When the food was ready, Rinoa and Lily set up an assembly line, so that everyone could build their meal to their liking. Rinoa was pleased to prove Squall wrong. She'd burned nothing and it had actually turned out delicious.

She ushered everyone into the kitchen, where they all chatted happily as they served themselves. It was far more informal a dinner than Rinoa was used to these days, but it was nice to not be served for a change. She liked the casual atmosphere, everyone dressed down, and the light, easy conversation free of veiled insults and backhanded compliments.

Lily had set a place at the table for Ellone and had used the flowers Seifer brought, along with a framed photo in place of a plate. Squall lit a small candle in a glass holder at Lily's request.

A toast was said to Ellone's memory, and Rinoa could swear that she saw the briefest flash of sorrow in Squall's eyes. Like Lily, he was still mourning, he was just better at hiding it.

As they ate, at Lily's urging, they shared memories about Ellone. Most of them funny or sweet. Rinoa wasn't surprised at all to hear so many that revolved around Ellone's pranks, the best being the time Ellone had filled Seifer's bed with fake cockroaches and a handful of real grasshoppers as payback for putting a fake finger in her sandwich.

"Seifer screamed like a little girl," Zell said gleefully, as though he'd been the one to execute the revenge and not Ellone. "It was like something out of a horror movie."

"At least I didn't cry about it," Seifer said. "One of the grasshoppers landed on you and you nearly pissed yourself."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"You both cried," Quistis cut in. "And Matron had to take you both out of the room."

"Tilmitt ate one, didn't she?" Seifer wondered. "On a dare?"

"I forgot that part," Quistis said. "You ate one too, after you stopped crying."

"She said it tasted like peanut butter," Seifer said. "She lied. And I didn't cry."

"What did it really taste like?" Lily asked.

"Hot dogs."

"Nuh-huh," Lily said. "Was it gross?"

" Actually, it wasn't terrible," Seifer said. "I've eaten worse things."

"Like what?"

"Well, I don't recommend Grat," Seifer said. "Or earthworms."

"Eeewww!"

Lily's face was rapt through the whole thing, both delighted and sad to hear what her mother had been like as a child. Rinoa was glad Squall had decided to do this for her, and it was obvious that Lily had needed this. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the girl missed her mother. That was something Rinoa understood, though she'd been too young to really grasp what  _dead_  meant at the time.

They were halfway through dinner when Rinoa picked up on something she didn't expect.

It was just a glance, one single little look that tipped her off, but she was certain there was something going on between Seifer and Quistis. It was just a small thing, but it said a lot. They hadn't just run into one another by chance. There was more to it than that.

The idea of it caught her off guard, but the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. Serious, smart and career-minded Quistis was just the sort of woman Seifer would want. Beautiful, independent and dangerous, Quistis was in every way a match for Seifer's stubborn, fiery volatility. Rinoa imagined Seifer's confidence and strength must have been attractive to Quistis, a man who knew what he wanted and didn't make apologies for it. And now that he'd matured, whatever anger he'd held onto as a boy had turned to a certain street-smart wisdom and integrity that Rinoa was sure Quistis would appreciate.

On high alert, Rinoa looked for other signs, all the while imagining some hot and steamy affair conducted in secret. No doubt Seifer would think that made it even hotter.

Quistis looked great. She'd barely aged and she appeared more relaxed and confidant than Rinoa remembered. Even in casual attire, jeans and a lightweight cream sweater, Quistis looked elegant and sophisticated, like could hold her own among the snotty wives of Florian's associates.

"Refresh my memory," Quistis said. "How did you meet your husband?"

"At one of my father's parties," Rinoa said. "He was the only one in the room who didn't treat me like I was Caraway's daughter. All the rest talked to me like I was a kid."

"So your father's friendly with him?" Quistis asked.

"I wouldn't say friendly," Rinoa said. "They tolerate each other. My father respects Ian's wealth, while Ian respects my father's position. They don't see eye to eye on much."

"Ah," Quistis said, nodding. "I never imagined you marrying someone your father approved of."

"I don't think he'd approve of anyone."

Quistis hadn't been able to make the wedding. Work had kept her away, and after that, they'd completely lost touch. It was no one's fault. They'd both been busy with their respective lives and had simply grown apart.

"Anyway," Rinoa said. "Ian and I got to talking and found we had similar beliefs about a lot of things. And he was charming and smart and made me laugh... And here I am."

There was more to it than that. Rinoa left out the part where she had boldly and shamelessly asked Ian to contribute to her cause and he'd agreed without batting an eye. Or the part where he'd shyly asked for a date at the end of the night and had expected her to say no. She'd accepted because she was intrigued by him. She hadn't planned on liking him as much as she had after that first date. Nor had she planned on agreeing to a second.

Marriage had never been the plan when she'd started dating him. In truth, she'd always thought it would be Squall. That some day, they'd cross paths again and that would be it for her.

Except that hadn't happened, and Ian's proposal offered her the opportunity to really do something for Timber, not just run in circles badgering people for donations and support but never getting anywhere. Florian had believed in her cause, he'd believed in her, and he'd helped her make it happen.

Rinoa explained none of this because it would sound like she had married for money and power. While that was part of it, it was only a small part of why she'd said yes. It was too hard to spell it out without making herself sound like a gold digger. Squall already thought this of her, and she didn't want the rest to think it too.

Across the table, watched her with wounded eyes. He looked away to focus on Lily, and gently chided her when she liberally doused her plate with hot sauce.

Damn it. She'd upset him again without meaning to.

_Hyne, I'm sorry. I wish you'd just talk to me._

_What is there to talk about, Rinoa?_

He was hearing her now? Was it just because of her plea, or could he hear everything?

If he wouldn't talk to her, maybe she could make him hear the truth anyway. It wasn't something she wanted to test now, but maybe in the near future. She needed him to understand. To ease her guilty conscience, and to find some common ground where they could talk without past hurts getting in the way.

Beside him, Lily was all smiles, but her smile for Squall was one of pure adoration.

When Squall dropped his arm around Lily's shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, Rinoa melted. She had feared more than once that he'd applied his SeeD training to parenting. Not that Rinoa believed for a minute that he didn't care about Lily, but she knew from experience how difficult it was for him to express his feelings. While she'd understood it, a child might not, and from what Rinoa could tell, the girl was all but starved for companionship.

That gave her an idea.

"Squall, if it's okay with you, maybe Lily and I could have a girl's night in tomorrow?" she asked. "Get our nails done, maybe a make-over, eat ice cream, do some decorating for the clothing drive?"

Lily's face brightened at the prospect of girl-time, confirming Rinoa's suspicion that she had no female role model in her life. Not that she blamed Squall for this. Rinoa was sure he did the best he could.

"Can I?" Lily asked. "Say yes. Please?"

Squall was confused by the change of subject, but he nodded slowly.

"No make-up," Squall said. "I'm fine with the rest."

"Why not?" Lily asked.

"Because you're nine," he said.

"All the girls at school wore make-up," Lily said.

"You're not  _all girls_ , and you're too young."

"Please?" Lily begged. "It's not like we'll be going anywhere. It's just for fun."

Squall sighed and held up his hands. Evidently, this was not a fight he cared much about winning.

"Fine. A little bit," he said. "Nothing crazy."

"Yay!" Rinoa and Lily said at the same time.

Seifer chuckled and shook his head.

"Boy, you gave in easy," Seifer said. "If she's got you this whipped now, just wait till she's a teenager."

"Two against one. Not a fair fight," Squall said.

"Try having three," Zell chimed in. "I gave up trying to fight this kind of stuff years ago. So now I find strawberry scented lip gloss in every drawer, glitter eye-shadow in the car, and my little one keeps using markers on her eyelids."

Rinoa smiled at the thought of Zell giving up and letting his girls run the house. She wouldn't have expected any different from him. He might have been a tough-as-nails, badass SeeD, but he also had a great, big soft spot for his two precious, blonde little girls and his sweet, pretty wife.

"Didn't know you had kids, chicken-wuss," Seifer said.

His tone was almost respectful. As if he was envious. That was unexpected, but Seifer's relaxed manner was also unexpected. He'd always been so intense but now he seemed like a man who was more or less content with his life.

"I thought you said you'd stop calling me that."

"I said  _maybe_ ," Seifer said with a grin. "I made no promises."

Zell cracked his knuckles and glared back. Quistis' hand dropped to Seifer's thigh under the table and he relaxed and gave Zell a bored shrug.

There was definitely something going on between these two.

"How are the girls?" Rinoa asked.

"Growing like weeds," Zell said. "Can you believe Darla's almost eight and Ellie just turned six?"

"Has it been that long?" Rinoa asked, surprised. It seemed like Darla had only been born a few months ago.

"Yep," Zell said. "Crazy isn't it? How fast it goes? I swear, I was just changing diapers and waking up ever half hour to feed someone."

"You should bring the family for a visit some time," Rinoa said. "Or maybe I'll come to Balamb. I'd love to see them. I've been so out of touch with everyone... I miss you guys. All the time."

Zell gave her a side hug and a firm, almost painful pat on the arm.

"You're welcome any time, Rin. We miss you, too."

The evening came to an end far too soon for Rinoa's liking. There were more hugs when Quistis and Seifer left, with promises from Quistis to stay in touch. Whether that would happen or not was to be determined, but Rinoa hoped that it wasn't too late to be friends again.

"It was good to see you, Rin," Seifer said. "Thanks for not killing me."

"Oh, please," Rinoa said. "If I forgave my dad, I can forgive you. Besides, I know what it was like. I know you didn't have much control there at the end..."

Seifer's eyes were sad as he held his arms out for a hug. She embraced him back and was so,  _so_  glad she'd invited him.

"I'll see you around, I'm sure," he said as he cast a glance at Squall.

Cool blue-gray eyes gazed back at Seifer, and if Rinoa wasn't mistaken, there was a warning in them.

"I hope so," Rinoa said. "Next time you're in town, give me a call. We'll have dinner or something."

"I'd like that."

Zell retired shortly after, and Lily had fallen asleep on the couch, leaving Squall and Rinoa alone.

"This was really sweet of you," she said as they surveyed the mess in the dining room.

Squall blew out the candle on the table and stared down at the photograph of Ellone. He dragged one finger over the glass then turned the frame face down.

"I should get Lily to bed. You don't have to stick around," he said.

"I'm not going to let you clean this mess up all by yourself," Rinoa said.

"It's fine," he said. "I got it."

Squall lifted Lily into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Rinoa watched him through the open door as he gently deposited her on the bed and covered her with the blanket. He sat on the edge of the bed, and swept a hand over the girl's hair as he watched her sleep.

When he finally stood, he adjusted the blankets around Lily's shoulders, leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Rinoa was touched by his tenderness, and even more so when she saw him wipe his eyes with his sleeve before he turned around.

Hastily, Rinoa gathered the cups from the coffee table, pretending that she hadn't seen. She knew Squall would be embarrassed to be caught in a moment of weakness, however brief or acceptable it may have been.

She stayed to help him clean, in spite of his protest that he could take care of it. It was another fight he didn't seem interested in fighting tonight.

All in all, it had been a nice evening. It had been fun to have some of the old crew back together, and really fun to see the friendship between Seifer and Squall. They'd acted like brothers who were secretly fond of one another but pretended annoyance. And seeing both men be so sweet to Lily was nice, too. There was real affection there, not just duty, and Rinoa was glad for that. She knew what it was like to be an obligation.

"Bring the rest of the stuff from the table, would you?" Squall asked.

Something about his posture gave her pause, but she cleared away the empty glasses and plates as he'd asked. When she turned back around, he was slumped over the sink, head bowed as he stared at the frothy, white bubbles in the sink.

The images that filled her head were like a film on fast-forward. The reasons for his melancholy throughout the evening became clearer and clearer as she pieced together how badly Ellone's death had wounded him.

Squall had been the one to care for Ellone in those last few months of her life, choosing to take time off to make sure someone was with her at the end. Hours spent sitting by her side in silence because he didn't want to say anything that would make her cry. Then, those last few hours, spent watching his beloved sister struggle for breath, her skin translucent and waxy, her eyes sunken and dull. The only thing to keep her from screaming out in pain was the heavy dose of painkillers flowing into her veins at regular, 15-minute intervals.

He'd almost ended it for her twice, when the pain was so intense, she screamed anyway.

And when the end came, he'd seen her inhale, then exhale, and fail to draw another breath.

He didn't cry. Not through a single, agonizing moment, had Squall Leonhart allowed himself to cry. He had to be the strong one. The one to deal with the aftermath of consoling his father and his niece, both of them nearly inconsolable in the days that followed.

Squall had been the one to make the funeral arrangements and the one to pack up the small apartment in Esthar. His friends praised him for his steady, calm handling of one of the biggest losses of his life, all the while he'd grieved quietly without anyone knowing about how much it truly hurt.

Two years later, it had come back to haunt him. Rinoa could feel the loss boiling up inside him, a deep well of pain that knew no bottom.

His shoulders began to shake, but he didn't make a sound. He pressed a hand to his eyes, unaware that she was watching. She set the dishes aside and gently touched his back to offer comfort if he wanted it, but he flinched at her touch and moved away.

"Squall-"

"I'm okay."

But he wasn't. She could feel it.

And then he broke. A sound like a gasp escaped his lips and he pressed both hands to his face as he shook with silent sobs. Rinoa didn't care if he pushed her away when she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face into his back. She'd be damned if she let him hurt all by himself. His pain was hers, and she should have been there for him back then, to share the burden and the sorrow with him.

She felt him struggle to regain control of himself, fighting against the tide of buried grief he'd kept at bay for far too long. The harder he fought it, the tighter she held on. Ragged breaths came in short, painful bursts and his heart beat heavy and hard against her cheek.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you," she said. "I should have been, and I'm sorry."

She regretted saying it immediately. The subtle openness to her in his mind abruptly slammed shut and he untangled her arms from around his waist. He stepped away from the sink and kept his back to her as he ground at his eyes with his palms.

"Squall-"

Then, with no warning he turned and swept his arms around her and crushed her into his chest. His head dropped to her shoulder as he gave in to his grief, crying quietly but violently as she did her best to hold him together.

"It's okay," she murmured.

It was a long time before he let her go, but when he did, his eyes were dry and he wouldn't meet her gaze. He returned to the sink and scrubbed at a plate as though nothing at all had happened.

Neither spoke as they cleaned, Squall washing and Rinoa drying each dish before she put it away. For the first time since they'd come back into one another's lives, there wasn't a need to say anything.

As he scrubbed the inside of a glass, it broke around his hand and he gave a soft curse as a shard cut deep into his knuckle. Blood began to flow toward his wrist as he held it up and removed the bit of glass embedded in his skin.

"Let me see it," Rinoa said and took his wrist to inspect the damage.

Instinct made him snatch his hand away, but she seized hold of it anyway and turned on the tap to rinse away the blood so she could see the wound better.

The glass had cut him to the bone. Magic, long unused, swelled through her body and out through her fingertips. As she passed her hand over his, blood ceased to flow and the the wound knitted itself closed.

Miraculous that she could do this, even after all this time, without the aid of a GF or even thinking about it. The last time she'd used magic of any sort had been years ago, perhaps even before she'd gotten married.

She rinsed his hand again to wash away the last traces of the injury. All that was left behind was a small, crooked scar on his first knuckle.

"All better," she said and let go of his wrist.

Squall stared down at the dishwater, now a grayish pink, and pulled the drain plug. He braced himself against the counter as he watched the water swirl down the drain.

Rinoa shamelessly studied his profile while he refused to look at her. She wondered if he realized how much he resembled his father with his hair this way. She doubted it, since he'd never taken comparisons to Laguna well, even if they were true.

"Rinoa-" he murmured as he turned toward her.

Whatever he meant to say got stuck in that strange disconnect between his brain and his mouth and he stood there, struggling to say the thing that had compelled him to speak in the first place.

"You're welcome," she said.

"No... I..."

"It's okay. You'd don't have to say anything," she said.

Cautiously, he reached for her left hand to examine it with deep scrutiny. It took her a moment to realize that he was inspecting the large diamond wedding ring.

"I could never have given you something like this," he said.

"You could have given me a plastic ring with a unicorn on it, and would have loved it," she said. "That's what you don't get. It was never about money."

"Then what is all this?" he asked with a vague gesture in the general direction of the house.

"A mutual agreement," she said.

"Explain."

Rinoa leaned back against the counter and looked at the floor. Instead of spelling out the terms of her marriage, she started where it would make sense to him.

"Zell got married about a year after I left," she said. "I was at the wedding, do you remember?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"I was hoping we could talk, you know?" she said. "I missed you. I missed us. But, you were there with someone, and when I said hello to you, you looked at me like you didn't even know me."

"The-"

"GF's," she finished. "I know that now, but I didn't know then, and I was so upset, I left as soon as the toasts were made. I thought you'd moved on, and I knew that was my fault, so... I moved on, too."

She toyed with her wedding ring as she waited for him to process that. His arms crossed over his chest and he nodded for her to continue.

"I lived with Watts and his family for a while, but eventually I moved back to my father's because I thought maybe I could do more if I had access to people who could help me," she said. "Living in Timber... All I could really do there was annoy the occupation, but in Deling City, I hoped to make change happen without resorting to violence."

"...makes sense," he said. "Go on."

"Anyway, I met Ian at a party," she said. "He was interested in helping and we became friends. He understood what I was trying to do, and he was willing and able to help. He knew people who could help us, both financially and politically. Then, one day he came to me with a proposal. He knew I didn't love him in a romantic sense, and I knew he could never..." she broke off without explaining that part. How could she tell him that? "But we were friends and... He was willing to officially back the Forest Owls... If..."

She stopped because she was aware of how terrible it sounded and there was so much more to it than that.

"He would have done it anyway," she said. "Even if I'd said no, but at the time... I was lonely and I had so much respect for him and he'd been so generous. We made a great team, we got along famously, I enjoyed his company... My hope of ever seeing you again was pretty much dead, so... I said yes."

"Did you ever love him?" Squall asked.

"Not in a romantic way," Rinoa admitted. "That was always off the table, for both of us. Maybe... If he wasn't the way he is, that might have been an option, but I knew in the beginning that it wasn't. Don't get me wrong. I do love him, just not in a romantic sense."

She looked down at the floor and crossed her arms over her chest, unconsciously mimicking Squall's posture. It still sounded terrible and she struggled for a way to explain it.

"It's more like the way I love Zell," she said. "Like a brother."

"Does he love you?"

"Yeah," she said softly. "I think he wishes there could be more and sometimes I do, too... but..."

Squall began to wash the remaining dishes without comment. If he understood, or if he was angry, he didn't show it.

"What about you?" she asked. "Have you been alone this whole time?"

"More or less," he said. "I dated some, but nothing long term."

"Did any of them love you?" she asked, both jealous and sad at the thought of him in some other woman's arms.

"I don't know. Never asked."

"I'm so sorry, Squall," she said. "I really believed you'd moved on."

"I thought I had, too," he said softly as he dried his hands on a dishtowel. "I'd forgotten all about you until... Recently."

She put her hand on his arm and looked up at his stony profile.

"If I'd believed there was even a chance that you might want to reconcile, I would have come back to you," she swore. "I would have figured out some other way to help Timber, if it meant we were together. But you looked at me like I was a stranger... I thought it was for the best."

He let out a soft breath and pressed a hand over his eyes.

"Do you regret it?" he whispered.

"Every day," she said.

Squall stepped away from the sink and turned toward her. He took her face between his palms and looked into her eyes, a world of hurt in them but also... Love. Rinoa's heart was in her throat as calloused thumbs brushed tenderly over her cheeks and she longed to feel his arms around her.

Across the bond, she sensed he was at war with himself. If they crossed this line, there would be no going back. Not for either of them. For Rinoa, it would be easy to let it happen and justify it with Ian's suggestion to take a lover. Everything in her screamed at her to close the distance between them, to bring Squall back to her, body and soul. She wanted for intimacy and kisses that weren't platonic, for his slow-burn passion and the way he'd never left her unsatisfied.

That had always been the one part of their relationship that had not suffered from all the outside stresses. Even at the end, when the pressure on both of them had become too great, it was the one place where they could still find common ground. Squall, the cold-hearted mercenary had proved a gentle, thorough, and generous lover and Rinoa was sure time had not changed that.

Squall's nose brushed against hers, his breath soft against her skin, and he drove his hands through her hair. Fingers coiled around strands at the nape of her neck as his lips brushed against the corner of her mouth. He was so close, if she turned her head she could meet him halfway. Hyne, how she wanted that, how badly she wanted him to give in.

His fingers tightened around her hair and gave it a soft tug to tilt her face up toward his. He pressed her back against the counter as he captured her bottom lip in kiss that was neither sweet nor gentle but everything she'd missed all these years. Her knees went weak and she sagged against the counter as his body pressed against hers and he inserted a knee between her thighs. One strong arm curled around her waist to bring her closer, until there was not an inch of space between them.

Her arms curled around his neck when his kiss grew bolder and cried out he ground himself against her. She'd forgotten how quickly he could set her ablaze, and she wanted more, more, more. She wanted this, and him and damned be the consequences.

He tugged her head back by the roots of her hair to expose her throat and his mouth moved over all the sensitive places he knew she loved. Urgent to have him, she tugged at the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head, casting it aside to let her hands wander up his strong back. He gave a soft hiss when she raked her fingernails lightly over his ribcage and down over his toned abdomen.

To pay her back, or perhaps because he couldn't stand it anymore, a hand swept up under the skirt of her dress and gripped her backside to press himself harder against her. She bit back a moan as the pressure sent a sharp ache through her whole body. She was so desperate for physical affection, it wouldn't take much more of that to bring her to climax.

Squall must have sensed this. In one smooth motion, he lifted her up to the counter and brought her legs around his waist. His crushed his lips against hers as he began to rock himself against her, heightening her pleasure and her desire to see it through to the end.

"Please," she murmured as his lips moved hungrily over her throat.

Squall broke all contact with alarming suddenness and reeled away as though she struck him. He backed into the counter opposite, his face full of horror and confusion as he stared back at her. For nearly half a minute, they locked eyes until Squall broke his gaze and ran his palms over his face and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I think you need to leave," he murmured. "Please."

Rinoa didn't understand the abrupt change, nor the fear in his eyes.

"Squall-"

"We can't do this."

"But-"

"Not while you have another man's ring on your finger," he said quietly. "I can't. And I won't."

Squall grabbed his t-shirt from the floor and stormed from the room. Rinoa was left stunned by how quickly he'd shifted gears and by the dull ache of arousal. She slid off the counter and wrapped her arms around herself as she stared at the doorway, then winced as the front door slammed hard enough to rattle the china in the cabinets.

She looked at her wedding band and for the first time, resented it. She would throw the damn thing in the ocean if it erased all the years they'd lost. She would give anything to have that back, to be forgiven for leaving him.

It was a cruel joke, Ian hiring Squall.

Rinoa sank slowly to the floor, torn between guilt and obligation, between the man she'd married, and her Knight, her one and only true love.


	9. Chapter 9

Squall crossed the back lawn of the estate unsure of where to go, but he needed to get a grip. He found himself beside his truck, fingers clasped around the door handle. The reflection that stared back at him in the window was no one he knew. The man in the glass was wild-eyed and trembling, and a total stranger.

He let go of the handle and stepped back. It was hard to breathe and his chest hurt. He needed air and there didn't seem to be enough to go around. All the things he'd suppressed over the years boiled up inside of him like storm-churned surf. It was as if he'd fallen into the sea and he was too tired to keep his head above water.

It was some dark kind of magic the way she pulled him in. He hadn't been able to help himself. Now that he'd gotten a taste, it was as though he'd been drugged. Desire still ran heavy in his veins. It coursed through him like a narcotic, and still his body craved another fix. Just like an addict, he hated the drug but every cell in his body demanded more.

He wanted her. All of her. Her heart. Her soul. Her mind. Every little piece that made her who she was, he wanted all of it.

How could he fight something he had no control over? How could he shake that permanent link between them? She wore another man's ring and signed her name with another man's moniker. She lived under another man's roof and slept in his bed. There would be no rest for him until he found a way to break her hold or his will to resist collapsed entirely.

Damn her. Damn himself. Their respective choices had brought them here, hapless and unaware that in the end, there was no hope for either of them. No reprieve. No escape. He could run. He could try to forget, but she would always be with him, always have power over him.

How could he love something he hated so much? Being bound to her this way, without a means of freeing himself, without the ability to opt out, meant he would never know peace or be content with anything but her.

Only his conscience kept him from giving in. That ring on her finger was the only thing that stopped him from falling to his knees and giving himself over to her.

The more he thought about it, the easier it became to justify. The marriage was a sham, little more than a business arrangement, but that knowledge was dangerous He'd already crossed a line he should have known better than to flirt with.

That was his own fault. She had not compelled him, he had initiated it of his own free will. He'd thrown himself into the fire, knowing he'd get burned, and there was no way he could blame her for it. It was all his doing. His alone, and now he was paying for it.

Work. He needed to work. He had a job to do, and the sooner he finished it, the sooner he could leave the temptation behind.

If that was even possible.

He went to the control room and grabbed the stack of files Zell had collected and sat down, pouring over the information piece by piece. He'd already been over everything several times, but it couldn't hurt to look again. Maybe there was something they missed, some minor detail that might answer who and why.

Zell had researched the most recent quote and had been correct about its source. It was from an old epic poem, a story about Hyne's fall from power. Squall read Zell's synopsis with interest, as the text itself used archaic language and it was difficult to puzzle out the meaning of it without some background in ancient religious literature. Thank goodness for Zell and his love of useless facts and information. Had he not been such a skilled martial artist and mechanic, he would have made a phenomenal information specialist.

Squall could see no parallel between the story and the attacks other than the allusions to Sorcery. Perhaps the quote had been used because it sounded ominous and would inspire fear. Or, maybe there was an interpretation they'd missed. The original text had been written in old Centran, a dead language that only a few could read or translate. It was possible that there were other versions, but the gist of the story should have remained the same, even with the ambiguity of lost language. Only a gross mistranslation might change the story so greatly that it might send them off track. Squall doubted that was the case.

Rinoa was inherently good, a woman driven to help others, especially those in need. If he were to put his personal feelings aside, the phrases all pointed to her. He noted that she had been repeatedly referred to as a Witch rather than a Sorceress.

He flipped through the messages, one by one until he got to the single word:

_**Burn.** _

In olden times, before it was understood that the world could never truly be rid of the powers of Sorcery, those suspected of inheriting Hyne's gifts were burned alive. Had that practice still been in fashion, Ellone might have burned, too, though Ellone had been no Sorceress. Her gift may have sprung from the same source, but it was neither inherited, nor passed on. That gift had died with her, but she would have burned just the same because such power was misunderstood and feared.

History was full of terrible, tyrannical and murderous Sorceresses, driven mad by the volatile power inside them. How Rinoa was able to maintain her sanity was a mystery. She was the only known Sorceress of their time, though Squall understood there may have been others in hiding, and she had inherited the power of Hyne knew how many Sorceresses through Edea, who had received Ultimecia's power. It was mind boggling, really to think Rinoa carried within her half of Hyne's power. If Rinoa ever lost control of herself, the world would become hell on earth.

Was it any wonder people feared her? On the surface, it seemed there was nothing to worry about. Kind, generous, fun... These were not words typically associated with a Sorceress. Edea had been the same until she'd been possessed.

Few remembered the good ones. The good ones kept their power hidden. They went into hiding to spare themselves the hatred and persecution.

With a sigh, he set the files aside and let his eyes drift to the monitors in front of him. Nothing moved on the screens except the night staff. In the laundry, a woman folded linens. In the kitchen, Steven broke down boxes to go out with the trash in the morning. Nothing strange. Nothing out of order.

There was nothing more to know until they got Marilee's autopsy report and confirmed the delivery list. Even then, he doubted there would be any helpful information. He was desperate for a break, some clue to follow but there were still too many questions and too little evidence.

It was late, and he supposed he should go to bed, but his mind was still whirling. Pinioned back and forth between thoughts of Rinoa and thoughts of how to solve this case, he was wide awake. Still, he got to his feet and returned to the guest house, where he poured himself a drink, hoping the self-medication would put him to sleep.

* * *

In the morning, Zell went over the initial police report from Marilee's discovery, looking for any information they'd collected that they might have missed, but there was nothing additional to add. If anything, Squall had been much more thorough than the investigators. His method of documentation was much more organized, details listed in neat bullet points, and Zell thought, not for the first time, that Squall might have made a really good cop.

Now, they waited on the autopsy report, but he doubted it would provide any additional clues.

His phone rang and he answered without looking at the number, expecting either his wife or Squall.

The sound of a chicken clucking greeted him as he placed the phone against his ear. With a scowl, he hit the end button and slammed the phone down on the desk. He had no time or patience for Seifer's moronic jokes.

The phone rang again and Zell sent it to voice mail. Five seconds later, the message chime sounded. Zell stared at the little blinking blue light that indicated he had a voice or text message. He tried to ignore it, but that tiny light was a distraction. He could see it in his peripheral. On. Off. On. Off.

With a scowl, Zell finally picked it up. Seifer had sent him a message.

_Pick up the phone, stupid._

When it rang again, Zell answered with a terse greeting.

"Touchy, aren't we?" Seifer asked.

"What do you want?"

"Nice to talk to you, too," Seifer said. "I'm doing fine. Thanks for asking."

"I'm busy, cut to the chase," Zell said.

"Fine," Seifer said. "Found a historical reference I thought you might want to look into. I'm messaging it now, but in a nutshell, this cult used to sacrifice people to appease Hyne by cutting out their hearts. They thought that it would prevent, and I'm quoting here, the  _pestilential spread of sorcery_."

"Sacrifice, huh?" Zell mused. "What did they do with the hearts?"

"Bodies were covered in flowers and left to rot," Seifer said. "The hearts were usually... Eaten."

"Gross," Zell said. "Raw?"

"It doesn't specify."

"This is getting weirder by the minute."

There was a long pause before Seifer spoke again.

"Do me a favor," he said. "Keep an eye on Leonhart."

"Squall's fine," Zell said. "It's Rin I'm worried about."

"Look, he's not dealing with the whole remembering-who-Rin-is thing very well. He's already flipped out over it," Seifer said. "Do not tell him I said that or I'll bust your face open the next time I see you."

"Right. Like you could," Zell said. He rolled his eyes at the monitors in front of him. "I wrestle baby T-rexaurs for fun. They're twice as big as you and way scarier."

"Just look out for him, okay?" Seifer snapped. "Please?"

Zell snorted.

"Never in my life have I heard you utter the word  _please_ , Almasy," Zell said. "How much did it hurt you to have to resort to good manners?"

"Fuck off," Seifer said. "I'm being totally serious here."

"Fine, I'll look out for him," Zell said. "Is there something I need to worry about?"

"Rinoa," Seifer said. "And who she was to him."

"That's still a thing?"

"It'll always be a thing," Seifer said.

Zell was surprised to hear this. He'd thought they'd both moved on, but if what Seifer was implying was true, then maybe not. Maybe that thing he'd once heard about Knighthood being a forever thing was actually true.

"Oh, man. That sucks," Zell said. "For both of them. You want me to cock-block if need be?"

"Are you out of your mind?" Seifer said with a laugh. "Encourage that shit. Leonhart needs to get laid as bad as you need a new hairstyle."

"Okay, we're done with this conversation," Zell said. "Anything else?"

Seifer's derisive laugh set Zell on edge. If he could have put his fist through the phone to pop Seifer right in his smart mouth, he would have.

"They belong together," Seifer said. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"That's mighty romantic of you," Zell said. "But I think you're forgetting she's married."

"Does that matter?"

"I bet it does to Squall," Zell said. "Not to mention, Rinoa's husband might have something to say about it."

"Just pass the info I sent on to Leonhart," Seifer said.

"Will do. Later."

Zell tossed his phone back down on the desk and called up his inbox to give the info a quick read. Seifer's summary was pretty much exactly what the document said, but he printed it and added it to the files for future reference.

What kind of nut-jobs ate human hearts? In what world was that even a thing?

The intercom crackled to life, drawing his attention away from the print-outs. On camera, a Dollet Postal Service truck waited at the gates.

" _Package delivery for Delacroix,"_  the driver said.

Zell depressed the button to open the gate.

"Front door," he said into the intercom.

He met the driver on the steps and signed for the package. Whatever it was, it was heavy and there was an odd, oily stain on one corner. He was suspicious of it and he didn't know why until he noticed that it was addressed to Rinoa in blocky, all-caps print, and there was no return address.

"Squall, a package came," Zell said into his radio. "Kinda sketchy. Wanna come take a look?"

"You in the foyer?"

"Yep."

"Meet you there."

Zell put the box on a nearby table and paced, hands in his pockets as he waited for Squall to arrive.

Crisp footsteps echoed through the foyer, announcing Squall's arrival before Zell saw him. Even his footfalls were serious and formal, and that made Zell think of what Seifer had said about Squall and Rinoa. He shook it off and turned toward the sound.

It wasn't his business, even if Zell kinda-sorta wanted to help Seifer play matchmaker. Zell had believed from the start that those two were meant to be together and he'd never understood why they'd broken up. They were good for each other.

"Let's take a look," Squall said.

Squall produced a pair of latex gloves and a box cutter. He pulled the gloves on and slit the package open carefully. Zell wouldn't have thought of either of these things. He would have just used his keys to slit the tape open and not thought about preserving potential evidence.

Zell held his breath as Squall pulled back a flap to reveal a lacquered rectangular box, the size of a loaf of bread. Someone had wiped it down before placing it inside. There were no smears, smudges or obvious fingerprints on the shiny top.

A foul smell wafted out, and Zell wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"What the hell is that?" he asked. "Smells like rotten salami."

Squall didn't answer. He handed Zell a pair of latex gloves and Zell put them on. The bad feeling had turned to a knot of fear that twisted in the pit of his stomach, and he bit his lip as Squall lifted the lid.

"Holy shit!" Zell exclaimed as he peeked inside, "Is that what I think it is?"

"Looks like it," Squall said, completely in control and unfazed by the contents of the box.

Zell wanted to throw up. Between the smell of rotting meat and the sight of three bloodless, shriveled and graying human hearts, his stomach threatened revolt. He gagged, turned his head away and took a deep breath through his mouth so that he didn't have to smell them.

A piece of paper was stuck to the inside of the lid. Squall gingerly plucked it off and unfolded it.

" _The lamb misused breeds public strife, and yet forgives the butcher's knife_ ," Squall read aloud.

"The hell does that mean?" Zell asked as he poked at one of the hearts with a gloved finger.

"Stop that," Squall said. "Don't touch anything."

"Sorry," Zell said. "This keeps getting weirder. What the hell is going on here?"

"I don't know," Squall said. "Do me a favor and call the police."

Zell dialed the DPD and waited on hold as Squall took photos from every angle.

What kind of sicko did something like this? Zell couldn't understand why someone would be compelled to cut someone's heart out in the first place, but sending it as a gift or a warning or a threat or whatever was totally psychotic. Whoever was pissed at Rinoa, whatever she had done, whatever their aim, it couldn't be worth as all this.

* * *

Rinoa spent a good part of her morning preparing for the clothing drive. She did not let herself think about Squall, or what had almost happened the night before. There was a lot to do and dwelling on it would only make it worse. When Lily joined her late morning, Rinoa was glad for the help and the distraction. With everything going on and the impromptu dinner the night before, Rinoa was behind. Not that she'd minded. Getting to see old friends and spend time with them had been just what she needed.

She set Lily to the task of decorating the cardboard collection boxes. Lily tackled this task with enthusiasm. She wrapped each box in butcher paper, then sketched pictures of happy children and decorated them in colored paper and fabric scraps, glitter and poster paint.

Rinoa could barely draw a stick figure, let alone cute scenes so creatively decorated. She knew from conversation that Squall had taken Lily out of school and was currently in search of another. Rinoa thought Lily might benefit from a more creative program than what the Dollet public school system could offer her. Lily would flourish under the right guidance and in the right environment.

While Lily worked on the boxes, Rinoa greeted the ladies from the council, who had come for lunch and to help her prepare. Of course, their help would be limited. Their idea of help was to give donations of cash and boxes of last seasons trends. None of them got their hands dirty or helped with any of the smaller tasks needed to make the event happen. Not a one of them ever ventured out into the community the way Rinoa did. They were above serving soup in a shelter and had no interest in meeting the people their causes helped.

"Noni, darling," Jackie Dumas greeted. She placed air kisses next to Rinoa's cheeks and Rinoa nearly choked on the woman's heavy, musky perfume. "I heard the awful news about your maid. Dreadful. Just dreadful! I can't even imagine!"

A pang of unexpected grief for Marilee tore through Rinoa's heart. Then guilt, because she'd already forgotten. She would make sure, one way or another, the funeral costs were taken care of. The girl had died in Rinoa's home, under her roof, and it was the least she could do to ease the family's burden.

"You must have been so, so scared!" Miranda said.

"It was terrifying," Rinoa admitted.

"Certainly, you're used to seeing dead bodies," Lacey said. "Being in the war and all."

"Well, yes... But it's not the same when it's in your home," Rinoa said. "Or someone you know."

"She was just the maid, right?" Miranda said. "It wasn't like she was your friend."

"She was killed in my home," Rinoa said. "She has a young daughter..."

Oh, she hated these bitches. The way they stared was a cross between confusion and disbelief, as though knowing personal details about her employee was strange. Then again, she doubted any of these women knew the first thing about the people who worked for them and they would never care to.

"Lunch will be served shortly," Rinoa said. "Why don't all of you head to the solarium and I'll join you in a few minutes? I need to handle something first."

Rinoa went back to the ballroom, where Lily was still hard at work on the boxes.

"These look great, Lily," Rinoa said. "Feel like taking a break? The ladies are here for lunch."

Lily dusted a coat of glitter from her shirt and squinted up at Rinoa.

"I'm not dressed up," Lily said. "Do I need to change?"

"Of course not," Rinoa said, reaching out to dust more glitter from Lily's cheek. "They'll understand. Well, they probably won't, but we don't care what they think, right?"

"Right," Lily said with a small grin.

Rinoa tucked the girl's hair behind her ears and straightened the collar if her shirt. There was so much of Ellone in Lily's profile. What must it be like for Squall to look at his niece these last two years and see his sister? Painful, she imagined. No wonder he hurt so much.

The ladies were already seated and one of the kitchen staff, a young, aspiring chef named Steven, served mimosas and appetizers as Rinoa and Lily joined them. The young man nodded in deference to Rinoa as she sat.

"Mimosa, ma'am?" 

"No thank you," she said. "I'll have some tea, if you have it."

Steven frowned as his hand hovered between them, a glass already filled with the customary luncheon drink. Rinoa didn't take it. She needed a clear head to deal with these women and too much to do to get sauced over finger sandwiches and gossip.

"We have an extra for lunch, Steven," Rinoa said. "Lily, what would you like to drink?"

"Sq-Leo will flip if I say soda, so... Orange juice is fine, I guess," Lily said.

"I won't tell if you don't," Rinoa said and was rewarded with a conspiratorial smile. "Lily would like a soda, Steven."

"Right away, Mrs. Noni," Steven said. He placed the extra mimosa on his cart and poured iced tea into a fresh glass. "I'll be back with the soda."

"Ladies, this is Lily Loire," Rinoa said as she dropped an arm around Lily's narrow shoulders. "She's helping with decorations today."

"Loire?" Jackie asked. She was a shark that had sensed blood in the water. "As in Laguna Loire?"

"I'm his granddaughter," Lily said. "But I live with my uncle, um, Leo."

Rinoa was glad that Lily was wise enough to revert to Squall's alias for the time being. She hadn't considered the potential for gossip if word spread that her former lover and Knight was now her head of security. She could only imagine the tales that might be spun with Florian gone.

"What does Leo do?" Jackie asked.

"Owns a security and surveillance company," Lily said. "They install alarms and cameras and stuff."

Jackie's eyebrow hitched up. This was another thing Rinoa hadn't counted on. The curiosity of gossips.

"Aren't you having your security system updated, Noni?" Jackie asked.

"Yes, I am," Rinoa admitted. "Top of the line everything."

"And SeeD is here, too, I see," Miranda said as she cast a glance at Akon, who stood by the door, looking sharp but stiff in his uniform. "You called in the whole cavalry, didn't you?"

"Well, with everything going on recently, Florian wanted to make sure I was safe," Rinoa said. "It's just a precaution."

Jackie returned her attention to Lily. "Where do you go to school, sweetie?"

"I was going to DS102, but my uncle took me out," Lily said. "It was  _terrible_."

"I should say so!" Miranda said. "I would sooner die than put any of my children in public school."

Hyne, she hated these women. She would much rather have lunch with Lily, just the two of them, than to have to sit here and entertain them. If wasn't necessary to her cause to put up with this nonsense, she would never even bother to associate with any of them.

"Lily's an exceptional artist," Rinoa said. "Her uncle's looking for a school with a good art program. You wouldn't happen to know of any in the area...?"

"There's the Dolletian Art Academy," Jackie said. "They're quite selective, though. They only take the best."

"Do you know if there are scholarships available?" Rinoa asked, even though she doubted Jackie would know.

"No idea, dear," Jackie said. "Is money an issue?"

Catty. Snide.  _Ugh._

"No, of course not," Rinoa said. "I was just curious. In case I come across a talented child in need."

"If not, you could set up a foundation of your own," Lacey said with a shrug and a smile.

That was actually a great idea. Coming from Lacey, it was a stroke of genius. Rinoa smiled at her appreciatively.

"I'll give that some thought," Rinoa said. "I'd love to be able to give talented kids a better option."

"You're so sweet, Noni," Jackie said with a vicious smile. "Such a big heart. It's a shame you have no children of your own."

Rinoa's hand curled around her dinner knife, but she chose not to dignify the snide comment with a response. Instead, she smiled sweetly back at Jackie. Beside her, Lily eyed the hand wrapped around the knife and shifted uncomfortably.

"I assume, since Lily's here you've taken her under your wing?" Miranda asked.

"She's visiting for a while," Rinoa said. "I've known Laguna and his family since I was seventeen."

"I wasn't aware that President Loire had other children," Jackie said. Her eyes glittered with interest. "Just that SeeD fellow and the adopted girl."

Rinoa gritted her teeth. This was a mistake. She'd thought having an extra guest would lighten the mood and take the edge off their cattiness, but they'd seized upon the information like a pack of wolves on the weakest lamb in the field and were now tearing it to shreds. Rinoa could only imagine the kind of gossip that would circulate following this little lunch.

"Leo's sort of adopted, too," Lily lied, brown eyes big and innocent. "He's actually a cousin, but Grandpa treats him like a son."

Rinoa appreciated how easily Lily told the lie and how easily she'd picked up on the need to.

"Well isn't that kind of him," Jackie said. "Taking in strays and all."

At that moment, Squall walked in and Rinoa was spared from resorting to violence. He glanced around and as his eyes fell on Lily, Rinoa sensed his relief. The connection between them was getting stronger and that unnerved her. His stressed nervousness came at her in waves, even if his expression betrayed nothing. Something was up. Maybe, something big.

"Well, well," Lacey said. "You've got plenty eye candy to look at while Florian's away, don't you?"

"I've been too busy to even notice," she said coldly. "All things considered."

"Oh, that's right," Lacey said with wide-eyed sympathy. "When would you have time to look? With people trying to kill you and all. Must be so scary."

Rinoa didn't know how to take that. Lacey's tone was not sarcastic or mean, but there was something about the way she said it that was less sympathetic than it seemed. Rinoa stared at her and the woman blinked back at her, vapid and benign as always.

"Mrs. Delacroix, ladies," he said as he stepped into the room. "Pardon the interruption."

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"I was just making sure Lily wasn't running around by herself," he said. He moved to Lily's side and brushed at her nose with his thumb. "You're covered in glitter, Lil."

"I was decorating," she said by way of explanation.

"Decorating yourself?" he asked. He wiped some away from her forehead and his fingers came away shiny. Fatherly. Affectionate. And very, very sweet. "You've got it everywhere."

"Don't worry. I'll wash it off," she said.

All three women eyed Squall like he was a delicious meal. Rabid curiosity made their eyes gleam at the prospect of any shred of gossip they might pick up from the encounter.

"Ladies, this is Leo Loire," she said. "Temporary head of security and Lily's uncle. His company is also installing the new security system."

"Pleased to meet you," Squall said stiffly. "Mrs. Delacroix, may I speak with you for a moment? It's important."

"Of course," she said. "Ladies, if you'll excuse me?"

Three pair of overly interested eyes followed them from the room. She was wary about leaving Lily alone with them, even for a minute. She feared the questions they might ask the girl, but Lily had held her own. If they asked anything personal, Rinoa hoped Lily would just lie her way out of it. The less that nasty pack of Grendels knew, the better.

In the hall, Squall was in SeeD mode. His posture was stiff and he gave off an aura of formality that may have had more to do with the incident the night before than anything else. 

"I need you to get rid of them," he said.

"What happened?" she asked. "Please don't tell me someone else is dead..."

"No, but... They don't need to be here right now."

"Tell me why." she said. "I deserve to know."

"I'll explain later, but right now, I want you to get them out of the house," he said. "Then take Lily to the guest house and stay there until I come for you."

"Fine, but I want to know everything," she said. "Not just whatever's happening now, but all of it. Everything Ian doesn't want me to know."

He stared at her but his stony expression didn't change.

"Please, Squall," she said. "This is my life we're talking about. If you care for me at all, you need to tell me the truth."

Something softened in his eyes and there was painful longing from him across the bond. Fear as well.

"...all right," he said. "I'll tell you everything, but they need to go. Right now."

Back in the solarium, Rinoa quickly thought of a lie.

"Ladies, I'm sorry to interrupt our lunch," she said. "But, apparently there's a gas leak in the kitchens and we have to evacuate. It's probably nothing serious, but... Just to be safe we have to go."

"Oh, dear," Lacey said. "You just have the worst luck, don't you?"

"I'll see all of you tomorrow, okay?" she said when none of them got up from their seats.

They took the hint and one by one, got to their feet with varying degrees of annoyance. Only Lacey looked sympathetic.

"If you ever need to talk, give me a call," Lacey said. "I know you must be so lonely and scared here all by yourself."

"I'm well protected," Rinoa said. "But thank you for the offer."

She escorted them to the door and saw them to their cars, just as police and fire-rescue arrived. At least her lie looked real on the surface. She watched until all three were down the driveway, then took Lily's hand to lead her back to the guest house.

"Is there really a gas leak?" Lily asked.

"No," Rinoa said. "I don't know what happened. Nice save back there about Squall, though."

"He usually gives his other name to strangers," Lily said. "I didn't think he'd want me to tell them the truth."

"Well, that was good thinking," Rinoa said. "Come on. Let's go grab our lunch and eat in the guest house."

Akon followed them and she insisted he grab some lunch, too. He ate at the table with them but said nothing as Rinoa chatted with Lily about her favorite artists. For a nine-year-old, Lily was quite educated about contemporary and classical artists.

"There's an exhibit at the Dollet Museum of Art," Lily said. "It's really cool. They have all these portraits that are made of junk. Up close, they look like a bunch of crap all glued together, you know? Stuff like plastic dinosaurs and bottle caps and doll parts and things, but when you step back, they're these huge portraits of famous people."

"I'd like to see that," Rinoa said sincerely.

"Squall took me last month and we spent half the day just looking at them," Lily said. "I thought he was going to hate it, but he really liked it. It was like he was standing there, analyzing how all the parts worked to make the whole picture. It was neat."

 He was just the sort to want to mentally deconstruct something he didn't understand in order to figure out how it all came together. Rinoa smiled as she pictured him staring at all the parts an pieces, brow lined in concentration as he tried to puzzle it out.

"Maybe we'll go some time," Rinoa said. "It's been a while since I've been."

It was more than an hour before Squall made an appearance. He looked stressed as he ushered her onto the patio so Lily wouldn't hear the conversation. Lily did not appreciate that.

"What happened?"

"You got a package," Squall said. "No return address."

"What was in it?"

"Something you don't want to see," he said.

"Tell me."

He took a deep breath and turned toward the ocean. For a moment he was silent, and Rinoa grew frustrated. She hated being kept in the dark.

"Tell me," she said again. "What was it?"

"Zell received the package and we opened it," Squall said. "It was a black lacquered box, and inside..."

He pushed a hand through his hair, brushing the long strands from his eyes.

"Hearts."

"Hearts?" she asked. "Like real ones? Or?"

"Looks like the real thing," Squall said. "If I were to guess..."

"Marilee and the two Ironclad guys," Rinoa said.

"More than likely," he said. "There were also some lines from a poem."

He pulled a small notebook from the jacket of his pocket and passed it to her. His all-caps, block print hadn't changed. She read it aloud to herself and then glanced up at Squall's clouded blue eyes.

"What does it mean?"

"No idea," he said.

"It makes it sound like they sacrificed themselves," Rinoa said as she read over the words again. "Like, they became martyrs or something."

Squall's eyebrow hitched up and he nodded slowly. It hadn't occurred to him to see it this way.

"I want to see everything," she said. "All the files and evidence you have."

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said. "I'll tell you what I know, but there are things in there you don't want to see, Rin."

"I don't care. This is happening to me,  _because_  of me. I want to know exactly what I'm dealing with."

She appreciated that he wanted to shield her from the worst of it, to keep her from the true horror of the situation, but it would do no good to hide it from her. No matter how bad it was, no matter how awful or gory, she needed to know the truth. She would pry it out of his head by force if he refused.

"Rin, it's bad," he said. "Really bad. I don't think you should see everything."

"I appreciate that you want to protect me," she said softly. "Really, I do. But I need to know exactly what I'm up against here."

"Fine," he said. "Later. After Lily goes to bed."

That was better than she hoped for.

"Still planning on girl's night, aren't you?"

"We are," she said. "Unless you don't want me to."

"So long as you guys do it here and not the main house, it's fine," Squall said. "Just, stay here and please don't let Lily out of your sight. I know that's a lot to ask-"

"It's not a problem, and Lily isn't a problem," she promised. "All I ask is that you don't hide anything from me. Please."

"Deal."

* * *

Rinoa tried to put everything going on out of her mind in favor of girl-time with Lily, but it was hard to stay focused. She had so many questions and she glanced at the clock every so often, only to find a few minutes had passed instead of hours. Squall's promise of later seemed an eternity from now.

Lily noticed, though Rinoa tried to keep the conversation light. Her dark eyes were concerned and suspicious as Rinoa paced the guest house and told a random string of tales about Squall in his youth.

She needed a distraction. She called up to the house and had someone bring a bag full of cosmetics and her professional manicure kit. Lily's eyes widened as Rinoa opened a huge case of nail polish with dozens of colors inside. Lily picked through them, delighted by the assortment and variety of shades. Most were colors Rinoa would never wear but Lily was nine, and therefore the more garish shades were acceptable and very appealing.

"Mom and I used to do this," Lily said as she sorted through the bottles with interest. "Ooh. Blue-violet. That's pretty. Just the two of us. Kind of silly, but I really miss it."

"I'm glad we could do this together," Rinoa said. "It's not as much fun when you're by yourself."

"Hot pink or blue violet?" Lily asked herself, holding up two bottles for comparison. "What happened with you and Squall?"

Rinoa was startled by the directness in which Lily asked the question. She hadn't expected the conversation to take this turn and so quickly.

"We wanted different things."

"What do you mean?" Lily asked as Rinoa reached for Lily's hand and began to file and shape her nails.

How was she supposed to explain it all without it sounding tragic or angsty and without making it sound as if she still had feelings for Squall? She could barely admit it to herself, let alone to Lily. Even if it couldn't be denied, even if she couldn't get the way he'd kissed her out of her head, it was hard to admit. If the love wasn't still there, the attraction most certainly was.

"He was trying to run and command a Garden," Rinoa said. "I was trying to free Timber and we just... Grew apart, I guess."

Lily selected a third shade of nail polish in a pale, metallic rose that Squall would approve of more than the vivid shades she favored.

"...he talks about you in his sleep, you know," Lily said.

It wasn't a surprise that Squall still talked in his sleep. He'd done that fairly often, especially when he'd had a hard day or had been sleep deprived. It was a surprise, though, to know that he talked about her, given that he'd forgotten all about her while awake.

"I think he still really loves you," Lily said almost casually as she placed the rose polish up next to the hot pink with her free hand. "He just won't admit it. Anyway, if you love someone, why would you ever leave them or like, stop caring? I don't understand how that happens."

"It's complicated," Rinoa said. "People change. Their priorities change, they end up wanting different things, or maybe they love each other but they can't live together. There are a lot of reasons why relationships don't work, and it isn't always something you can fix. Sometimes, love just isn't enough."

"Which was it for you?" Lily asked. "Couldn't live together?"

"That wasn't the hard part," Rinoa said. "It was all the outside things. The reporters. Pressure from the government. Squall's job. My commitments in Timber. There were a lot of things that made it too hard to stay."

"Is it hard being a Sorceress?" Lily wondered.

"Sometimes," Rinoa admitted. "Either people are afraid of you, they want to use you, or they want to kill you."

Lily eyed a bottle of bright red polish and immediately decided against it.

"They hunt you," Lily said knowingly. "Like they did when my mom was little. Is that why Squall is here? Because someone's trying to hurt you?"

Lily was sharper than anyone gave her credit for. Squall may not have filled her in on the real reason they were here, but the girl had figured it out on her own.

"Maybe," Rinoa said. "I don't know. But let's not talk about that right now. We're supposed to be having fun. What color did you decide on?"

"Blue-violet, I think," Lily said. "Squall's gonna hate it, but whatever."

"I don't think he'll even notice."

"He'll notice," Lily said. "He notices everything."

"Well, he'll just have to deal with it," Rinoa said. "It's only acceptable to wear fun colors when you're young."

"Unless you're Aunt Selphie," Lily said. "She wore slime-green nail polish last time I saw her."

That was not a surprise. Selphie refused to grow up, something that Rinoa found both endearing and annoying as the years passed.

"Unless you're Selphie," Rinoa agreed.

After the manicures, Rinoa let Lily pick through a sampling of make up, which Rinoa applied sparingly at Squall's request. Lily wasn't even disappointed that Rinoa kept it modest. As Rinoa suspected, it was the idea of wearing make-up, more than the make-up itself that Lily liked.

She gave the girl a fresh-faced look in neutral colors and refrained from using foundation or anything heavy. She applied a pale, slightly shimmery gloss to her lips.

"What do you think?" Rinoa asked Lily as she turned her toward the bedroom mirror.

"Wow," Lily said. "You almost can't tell."

"That's the point," Rinoa said. "A little mascara, a little eyeshadow, some gloss. That's all you really need."

"I actually look pretty, though," Lily said.

"You look pretty without it," Rinoa promised as she smoothed Lily's hair away from her face. "Just like your mom."

"She was so beautiful," Lily said sadly. "I'm not pretty at all."

"You're wrong about that," Rinoa said. "You have your mouth and her eyes."

"I hate my nose, though," Lily said. "It's so bony. Mom always said I got that from my dad."

"I hate my ears," Rinoa said with a smile. "They're different sizes."

"No way! Let me see."

Rinoa pulled back her hair to reveal that her right ear was slightly smaller than her left. It was why she'd always worn her hair down when she was younger. These days, she didn't care so much, but if her flaws made Lily feel better, she didn't mind showing them off.

"They really are," Lily said. "Weird!"

Rinoa laughed.

"Sorry," Lily said. "I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Rinoa promised. "I've had my whole life to get used to them. Now, let's see what we can do with your hair."

* * *

By the time Squall made it back to the guest house, it was late and he was worn out. When he walked in, the lights were off but the TV was on. Lily and Rinoa were curled up on the couch together, Lily sound asleep in Rinoa's arms.

Squall kicked off his boots and dumped a bag containing the files beside the door as Rinoa greeted him. She shifted Lily gently so she could sit up. Lily didn't even stir.

"She wanted to wait for you," Rinoa said.

"Took longer than I thought."

"There's some leftover pizza in the fridge."

Pizza sounded good, but at the moment, anything would have done. He'd skipped breakfast and lunch and only just now realized he was hungry.

It was then that he noticed Rinoa was wearing a pair of his pajama pants. He wasn't sure if he wanted to yell or laugh. In the end, he just snorted and decided to let it go. He was too weary to discuss it, and it really wasn't that important.

"Let me put Lily to bed," Squall said. "And then you can see the files."

"Should I make some coffee?"

"How about a drink instead?" he asked. "There's vodka in the freezer."

"I can do that," she said.

He gave Lily a gentle shake and she opened her eyes with a frown.

"Hey kid," he said.

"Hi," she said. "You're late."

"I know. I'm sorry," he said. "Did you have fun?"

"Lots," she said as she sat up. She splayed out her fingers. "See?"

Her nails had been painted a bluish shade. Any other time, it would have bothered him but right now, he didn't care. It was harmless and not worth a disagreement.

"I'm glad," he said and brushed the hair from her sleepy eyes. "Come on. Let me tuck you in."

"Okay," she murmured, her eyes drifting shut again.

With a sigh, Squall helped her to her feet and guided her to the bedroom, where she flopped face down on the bed and wrapped her arms around the pillow.

"Good night, kiddo," he said.

"Love you," she murmured.

It was the first time she'd said that since her mother died. The sentiment wasn't lost on him, even if she was half asleep. A powerful surge of paternal affection swelled up inside him as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her temple.

"Love you too," he said and stood, watching the soft rise and fall of her back as she settled into sleep.

Back in the living room, Rinoa had prepared drinks and had heated a few slices of pizza for him. He ate a few bites without really tasting it, all too aware of Rinoa's watchful gaze, as though to ensure he was really eating. He remembered the way she used to bring food to his office because he would often get so wrapped up in work, he would forget.

"Thanks for looking after Lily," he said. "She doesn't get do to much girl stuff."

"We had fun," Rinoa said. "She's a sweetheart."

He nodded absently, guilty that he hadn't been able to spend much time with her lately.

"You're doing a good job, Squall," Rinoa said, sensing his guilt. "Nobody's perfect."

He swallowed down half his drink and finished off the pizza, taking care to wipe his hands before he removed the files from his bag. He flipped through them, to make sure they were in order before he passed them on to Rinoa.

"This is everything we have so far."

He didn't want her to see everything, especially not the photos, but she was right in saying that she deserved to know. Instinct made him want to spare her the gory details, but after everything she'd seen during the fight against Ultimecia, he supposed it was nothing new. Even if it was horrifying. It might even help in the long run. Perhaps some detail would stand out to her and point him in the right direction. Hyne knew, at present they were just chasing empty leads.

She flipped through the photos and the documents one by one. Her brow furrowed as she inspected them, and page by page, her mood darkened. As he waited for her to finish, he refilled their drinks and helped himself to another slice of pizza.

It was a long time before she was done. She looked longest at the photos of Marilee and the two Ironclad guards. Eventually, she put them back in their respective files and sat back on the couch to take a long swallow of her drink.

"Any thoughts on who it might be?" Squall asked.

"No clue," she said. "My fellow socialites might be a pack of Toramas, but none of them stand out as psychopaths."

"What about the messages?" he asked. "Anything ring a bell?"

"Not in particular," she said. "A few are familiar, I guess. Old movies, right?"

"One or two," Squall said as he perched himself on the arm of the couch. "The others are religious poetry."

She shifted toward him and she chewed her lip as her troubled eyes lifted to meet his.

"This all has to do with me being a Sorceress," she said. "But why now? Why this way?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Squall said. "But from now on, I need you to make sure you're never alone."

"Aren't we already doing that?" she asked.

"I mean, you're either with me or with Zell," Squall said. "I don't trust the other two to put you first if a situation arises. What does your social schedule look like?"

"Clothing drive tomorrow," she said. "I'm supposed to volunteer at the homeless shelter Thursday, and Miranda has a party on Friday. Saturday is free for a change, and on Sunday, there's a brunch at Jackie's but I can cancel that if I need to."

"I'll make sure one of us is with you," Squall said. "What do you know about Mrs. Dumas?"

"You don't think she had something to do with it, do you?"

"I don't know," Squall said. "But her husband is connected to organized crime, so maybe."

"He was one of the biggest supporters of the Timber liberation," Rinoa said. "Ian seems to think this is about that."

"Maybe, maybe not," Squall said. "We don't really know anything."

"Except that someone wants to kidnap or kill me."

Squall finished his drink and nodded.

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen," he promised.

"I trust you."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her not to. Not because he didn't think he could protect her, but because he didn't trust himself not to give in to temptation. Having her so close, all the time, was going to be a challenge. He wasn't so sure he would be able to resist.

"Do you need anything from your room?" he asked.

"Why?"

"I'd rather you stay here than move into the house," Squall said. "I can respond quicker if you're here."

"Toothbrush. That's about it," she said. "By the way, I got Lily an interview at Dollet Art Academy. It's Thursday at two, if that's okay."

Squall was momentarily irritated that she would presume to do something like that. Then again, he hadn't had even a moment to look into finding a school.

"Let's go," he said.

Outside, he instructed Damius, who had replaced Akon at to stay put. Lily was sound asleep, but he didn't want her left alone anymore either, even for a few minutes.

"Don't be mad," she said as they headed toward the main house. "I knew you were busy, and-"

"It's fine," he said. "I'm not upset."

"She'll need to put together a portfolio," Rinoa said. "Samples of her work. It's just an interview and a tour, but I've heard really good things about it."

"Thanks," he said for lack of anything better to say. He wouldn't be able to afford a private art school without Laguna's financial assistance. It was a nice gesture, and the idea place where Lily could be with kids similar to herself and maybe make a few friends her own age was almost too perfect to be true.

"If you need help paying for it-"

"Don't worry about it," Squall said. "I'll make it work."

"They have a scholarship available," Rinoa finished. "Full tuition."

Squall opened the door for her and pushed a hand through his hair. He was too tired to discuss this now. His plans for the day had been shot, and most of his day tomorrow would be spent catching up, doing interviews and helping Raijin and Preston run the final tests on the security system. It would be another long one, and he needed as few distractions as possible. And right now, what he needed most was sleep.

In Rinoa's room, she packed a small bag in the bathroom, taking far longer than Squall wanted her to. While he waited, he inspected the photographs on the dresser. Most of them were of Rinoa and Florian together. There was nothing fake or affected about their smiles. Rinoa looked genuinely happy in every one of them, and she smiled at the camera the same way she used to smile at him.

It was the photo of her in her wedding dress, pushing Florian down the aisle that bothered him most. Both wore big, happy grins that made the jealous beast in Squall snarl to life.

_That should have been me._

He tried to push that thought from his mind, but it lingered as each and every picture told the story of a happy couple. If he'd followed her to Timber, would he be the one in those pictures smiling at the camera like the happiest man in the world? Or would they have fallen apart and wound up resenting one another for the burden the bond created?

It certainly felt like a burden now. An obligation. An unwanted connection. He was doomed to belong to her for the rest of his days, unfulfilled and unable to act on what he wanted unless he let go of every moral he owned. Seeing the crippled man in the pictures only drove that knife in deeper. Had Delacroix not loved her, or if he had been unkind to her, Squall could perhaps justify how far over the line he'd already stepped.

It was obvious, in every picture, that Florian Delacroix loved his wife as more than just a close friend. He didn't just love her, he was _in_ love with her, the way Squall had once been. Rinoa was either unaware of that fact, or she had downplayed it on purpose.

Who was he kidding? It was futile to try to convince himself there was nothing left, when in reality, he'd never stopped loving her. He might have erased her from memory, but she'd always been there, a part of him he couldn't ever truly rid himself of.

From the doorway of the bathroom, Rinoa watched him him, guilt-stricken and sad. Her lips parted to say something, but he turned away from both her and the photos, unwilling and unable to look anymore. There was no point in wishing for a past that could never be, nor a future that couldn't be as long as she was married to someone else. Even then, if she divorced Delacroix, he wasn't sure a future with her was what he wanted.

"Do you have everything?" he asked.

"Just about," she said. "Hey, Squall-"

"Get what you need and let's go," he said to the wall.

Her hand pressed against his back and he flinched away from her. His heart and body betrayed him, wanting more than he was able to accept. It would be so easy to give in. So easy to turn to her, to take her in his arms and beg her to come back to him. He could make her his again if he wasn't so opposed to being involved with a married woman. If he hadn't seen the wheelchair bound man in the pictures, he might have forgotten himself long enough to push her toward the bed and show her how much he missed her.

But he would not be the other man.

"Don't," he breathed. "Just get your stuff."

Repelled by his own desire to belong to her again, Squall avoided looking at her as they returned to the guest house. Her eyes crawled all over him, urging him to see her, but he ignored it.

"You can take my room," he said. "I'll take the couch."

"You don't have to-"

"Strategic," he reminded her. "Just give me a minute to change."

When he saw the light go out in his room, he lay down on the couch and stretched out, feeling the stress of the day melt away as he made himself comfortable. He'd no sooner closed his eyes when he herd Lily's sharp cry of distress.

He was on his feet in an instant and threw open the bedroom door, half certain someone had broken in. He flicked on the light and saw Lily sitting up in the bed, wide-eyed and scared. There were tears in her eyes as she fought to catch her breath but she appeared unharmed and there was no masked intruder waiting in the shadows to steal her away.

Relieved, Squall moved to her bedside and sat, where he opened his arms to her. She collapsed into them, and burst into tears.

"Bad dream?"

She nodded into his chest. Squall leaned back against the headboard and stroked her dark hair until she calmed down enough to talk.

"I dreamed you died," she finally  said. "Somebody killed you and they wanted to kill me too, and I ran away, but there was nowhere for me to go. I was all alone and it was raining and there was nobody who could help me."

"Not going anywhere," he said. "Promise."

He tightened his arms around her as if to prove his point and she relaxed against him with a soft sigh.

"Everything okay?" Rinoa asked from the doorway.

"It's fine," he said in a tone that he hoped made it clear she was dismissed.

He didn't look at her, but he felt her hesitation and her dismay at being excluded. It hurt him the same way it hurt her, but he refused to look up. He held Lily tighter and turned his face away until Rinoa left. In his arms, Lily was still shaking.

"Will you stay with me?" Lily asked. "Just this once?"

Squall had rules about bed-sharing, mostly because he wasn't sure what was appropriate where kids were concerned. Lily seemed so small and so scared, Squall gave in and slid under the blanket beside her. He switched out the light and settled against the pillow as Lily tucked herself against his side.

"If something happens to you, where do I go?" Lily asked. "What happens to me?"

"You'd go to Laguna," Squall said.

"You say that like I'm property," she said, but without anger.

"You're not property," he said and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"I'd rather live with Seifer," she said. "If you died."

"He'd probably let you have ice cream and potato chips for dinner and not care if you curse like a sailor."

"Laguna probably would, too," she pointed out. "Seifer's better than being left with a nanny all the time."

"You don't need to worry about this stuff, Lil," Squall said tiredly. "I'm not going anywhere."

As Lily drifted off to sleep, he hoped that was a promise he could keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote: William Blake


	10. Chapter 10

Zell attended the charity event with Rinoa, while Squall drove Lily to the Dollet Art Academy for their appointment. Lily frowned the whole way there. She had no desire to go back to school, but she brightened as they stepped inside the main hall where the walls were lined with dozens of student works. There were sculptures and paintings, collages and mixed media pieces, each marked with the name and grade of the creator.

"These kids are my age," Lily said as she pointed to a group of works. "Wow, these are good. What if I didn't bring my best stuff? Maybe I should have brought that ugly landscape you like."

Lily had spent a good part of her day deciding what to put in her portfolio for the visit. Squall helped a little at breakfast, but she'd picked the majority herself. Squall thought all of her art was great, so Lily put no stock in his opinion.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Squall said. "You ready?"

"Ugh! What if they think I suck?"

"They won't think you suck," he promised.

"But what if they do?"

"They won't," he said. "And if they do, then they're the ones that suck and we'll find some place else."

"I'm scared."

"I'll be right there with you, Lil."

Squall expected a tour first, but they were introduced to the headmaster and ushered into a conference room. Three senior faculty members waited at a polished wood table. Lily's grip on Squall's hand tightened. Neither had expected a panel of judges.

"It is highly unusual for us to take a student this late in the term," the headmaster said, "however, we do have an opening and Mrs. Delacroix spoke so highly of Lily's talent we felt it was worth meeting with you. Did you bring a portfolio, Lily?"

She nodded and with shaking hands pushed it across the table toward him. Squall held her hand as they reviewed her work without comment. Squall tried to judge their reactions but found he was unsure of whether they liked what they saw or not.

A place like this had to be expensive, scholarship or not. Laguna would gladly foot the bill, but Squall had a hard time swallowing his pride long enough to ask, even when it wasn't for himself. Squall had a little in savings, probably enough to cover the first month's tuition, but not a full semester.

If the school wanted her, Squall would suck it up, choke back his pride and ask Laguna for the money. It was for Lily, and Laguna would do anything for her, except shoulder the responsibility of her day to day care.

"These are quite exceptional, Lily," the Headmaster said. "What formal training have you had?"

"I had a few lessons," she said. "And my teacher at DS102 was really good. Miss Brandon."

"What's your favorite medium?"

"Watercolor," Lily said, "but I'm just now trying out oil, so that might be my new favorite. I like the way the paint moves."

Squall gave her hand a quick squeeze of support under the table and she squeezed back. There were more questions, and Lily answered with confidence. Lily knew art the way Squall knew battle strategy.

"Why don't we give you the tour?" the headmaster asked. "Miss Hardwick, would you mind showing them around?"

Miss Hardwick was a pretty, young brunette in a peasant skirt and silk tunic, and she looked every bit the bohemian artist. Or at least, as far as the stereotype in Squall's head went. Her smile was broad and carefree, but also flirtatious. Squall pretended he didn't notice and followed her through the halls without comment.

The school was impressive. In addition to the usual academic subjects, there were a dozen or so "labs" where students learned and used different types of materials, from paint to sculpture to pottery. Inside each one, small groups of kids were busy creating. Lily pressed her face to the glass outside one of the rooms, rapt as she watched the activities going on inside.

"The school day here is two hours longer than your typical curriculum," Miss Hardwick said. "That extra time is focused on the arts, of course. The students can choose what they wish to focus on that day until they find a medium they particularly enjoy or show a talent for. For example, Lily might spend her first hour focused primarily on watercolor or oils, and then sample another class for the second."

"Wow, this is cool," Lily murmured, watching a pair of students collaborate on a sculpture made of plastic army men, coat hangers, polymer clay and a lot of glitter. "So, we can make, like, whatever? Anything we want?"

"Pretty much," Miss Hardwick said. "So long as it isn't toxic or explosive or offensive."

"Take all the fun out of it, why don't you?" Lily said.

Squall scowled and elbowed her for the comment, but Miss Hardwick laughed.

"I think you'll fit in here just fine," the woman said.

"Can we go in?" Lily asked. "I wanna see that thing up close."

"Sure," Miss Hardwick said. "You can meet the instructor and some of your classmates."

All eyes were on Lily as they were led inside. The other kids gazed at her with curiosity but without hostility as she wandered the workspace, eying the odd sculptures with interest.

"We keep the classes small," Miss Hardwick said to Squall. "There are only 18 spaces available for each grade so that we can give the children the attention they need."

"What's your policy on bullying?" Squall asked.

"Not tolerated. At all," Miss Hardwick said. "All incidents are taken seriously and investigated thoroughly, and all students are required to take a conflict resolution class to help them learn to talk through problems and concerns."

That was good to know. He didn't want any repeat incidents. Lily had already endured enough but she could benefit from lessons on how to deal with others. Hyne knew, she wouldn't learn it from him.

"A lot of the children here experienced bullying in other schools," Miss Hardwick continued. "So we make absolutely sure that this is a safe place for our kids. I assume by your question Lily's had issues in the past?"

"She lost her mother two years ago," Squall said. "She's had a hard time adjusting. Some of the kids at her other school weren't kind nice about it."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Your wife?"

"Sister," he said.

"Well, this is a very nurturing environment," Miss Hardwick said but her tone implied she was game to nurture him, too. "We encourage the children to express grief and anger through art and creativity. It's very therapeutic."

On the other side of the room, Lily talked quietly with a dark haired boy wearing thick, black-framed glasses. He appeared to be building an owl out of a bunch of machine parts, screws, bolts and spark plugs. The owl made Squall think of Rinoa and it took him nearly a full minute to remember why.

"It's very sweet of you to take her in," Miss Hardwick said. "It's not so often you see single young men willing to do that."

Miss Hardwick stood too close for Squall's comfort. He took an unconscious step back as he watched Lily talk with the boy at the back of the room about his project. The boy was animated and enthusiastic and he pointed out things on the sculpture for Lily to examine. When she laughed at something he said, Squall knew this was where Lily needed to be.

Back in the office, Squall asked about tuition.

"Tuition won't be a concern," the headmaster promised. "A generous patron has provided a sort of scholarship for children like Lily."

Squall was suspicious. "No application?"

"Well, yes," the headmaster said. He pushed a document across the table. "But I believe we've already decided, and I oversee any approvals for said scholarship. Is there a concern?"

"It just seems... Sudden," he said. "I thought there would be more of a process. And we haven't really decided yet."

"But-" Lily began, but Squall silenced her with a look.

"Can we let you know?" Squall asked. "After we take a look at a few other places?"

"Of course," the headmaster said. "But don't take too long to decide. We only have one open spot and we plan to fill it by the end of the week."

"I understand," Squall said. "I'll be in touch."

Out in the parking lot, Lily caught hold of Squall's hand as he reached to open the door of the truck for her. Big brown eyes stared imploringly up at him, and he knew what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth.

"You really want to go here?" he asked before she could start begging. "You don't even want to look at any other schools first?"

"No," she said. "This place is awesome!"

"Are you're sure?" he asked. "Because once you're enrolled, I'm not taking you out if you don't like it."

"I know I'm gonna love it," she said. "Promise."

He smoothed both hands over her hair as she looked at him hopefully.

"Please say yes," she urged. "Please, please, puhleeze!"

Squall's mouth quirked into a half-smile.

"Why don't you sleep on it and let me know tomorrow?"

"I don't need to sleep on it," she said. "I don't. I wanna go here."

"Okay," he said. "Let's go fill out the paperwork."

* * *

Seifer sat in his car outside an expensive high-rise apartment in downtown Deling City. He'd been sitting there for over an hour, watching the door for any sign of Florian Delacroix or the woman he'd gone inside with. Impatient, Seifer tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and sent a glance at the clock on the dash.

He might have believed this was a case of a clandestine lunchtime hook-up, a bit of afternoon delight, if not for the fact that the man in question was a paraplegic. A little digging told Seifer that Delacroix had been quite the cad in his younger days, prior to the injuries that would leave him unable to walk for the rest of his life.

As a young man, Delacroix had developed a reputation for both his wild partying and his extreme generosity. It was said that pre-accident, Delacroix had a soft spot for pretty girls of modest means. He liked to give them lavish gifts, dress them up in gowns that cost more than a whole month's rent and take them out on the town. His friends called it slumming, but he claimed to prefer his women less spoiled. Common girls appreciated his gifts, whereas rich girls felt entitled to them.

His generosity was almost as well known as his love of partying. He was the sort of guy who would do anything for a friend, and gave without asking for anything in return. He'd abhorred his parents stiff formality and for a time, refused to learn the family business.

It was the party lifestyle that had brought him down. He'd drunkenly taken his date out for a late night drive in his brand new sports car and had lost control on an unexpected curve in the road. He'd rolled the car into a farm field, and wound up nearly 100 feet from the road, pinned beneath the car. For two hours, he'd lay in the field, in and out of consciousness before anyone came to his aid. By then, it was too late to mend his broken back, and far too late to save his date, who had been thrown from the car and had more than likely died on impact.

Since then, Delacroix had been a good boy. He drank only in moderation, though he was a regular on the ball and gala scene, both in Dollet and Galbadia. He stopped womanizing, went to college and eventually became head of Delacroix Industries. He seemed to be on the up and up, except for one thing.

This apartment.

Though Delacroix spent a significant amount of time in Deling City, he had a standing reservation in the penthouse of the Hotel Galbadia. Seifer's contact had been watching the man since Squall had asked Seifer to look into it, and he'd reported back that Delacroix retired to his rooms at the hotel every evening, without fail. Yet he spent his lunch hour here, in an apartment rented in his name, with the same woman, every single day. As far as Seifer could tell, neither of them returned there in the evening.

Was the man having an affair? Was that the real reason he was away from home so much?

If it was an affair, it could only be an emotional one, if rumors about Delacroix were true. Sure, there were plenty of things he could do pleasure a woman, but there would be no reciprocation that he could feel or even enjoy.

Did Delacroix crave a physical relationship? Or had that urge left with his broken spine? What was it like to remember arousal and pleasure, but no longer be able to experience it? Was the instinct still there? Seifer didn't know, but he was curious.

Twenty minutes later, the woman exited the building. She tucked her dark blonde hair behind her ears and slipped on a pair of expensive looking sunglasses. Seifer took a few pictures, making sure she didn't spot him as he snapped the photos. She was well-to-do and put together, and he noted there was a wedding ring on her hand. The ring was huge and sparkly through his viewfinder.

She was someone's wife. A rich someone's wife.

"The plot thickens," he murmured to himself.

They arrived together but left separate. Why? And who the hell was she?

Seifer decided to follow her. He took care care to stay at a distance, a few car lengths back, while still keeping her vehicle in sight. Eventually, he found himself stopped a block from the Caraway Estate. He parked half a block away and watched as the woman got out of the limo and walked up the steps like she owned the place.

"What the hell?" he muttered.

Seifer watched through the lens of the camera. He zoomed in closer as the front door opened and Caraway stepped out. The woman gestured angrily at him, and Caraway glanced around as though he did not want her to be seen on his doorstep. Seifer snapped a couple photos as the woman was ushered inside. He was particularly proud of the one he got of Caraway looking guilty as sin.

And then there was more waiting. Nearly half an hour lapsed before the woman emerged from the house carrying an envelope. She flashed a smug, triumphant smile as she sauntered down the walk to the limo.

Seifer trailed her all the way back to Delacroix's main office in downtown Deling City, which was only blocks from the apartment. Delacroix was just arriving as the woman stepped out of the limo. She passed Delacroix the envelope, exchanged a few polite words with him, and they entered the building together.

They didn't act as though they were lovers, but perhaps it was part of the ruse. Seifer wasn't exactly a stranger to keeping it professional in public, even if it was heated behind closed doors.

What the hell was going on here? How was Caraway involved in this and why had he looked so damn guilty? Who was this woman?

Seifer tried to give Squall a ring, but Squall's phone was off. He left a voice mail.

"Got some weird shit going down. Hit me back, ASAP."

He pocketed the phone and resumed drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. Maybe he should stick around and follow the woman when she left the building. She might lead him somewhere even more curious than Caraway's doorstep.

Seifer hated waiting. Despised it. Would rather listen to Dincht expound on all the virtues of hot dogs than have to sit in a car for hours, waiting around for something to happen.

Deciding to take a risk, he pulled a knit cap over his hair and a leather motorcycle jacket over his company t-shirt. As he got out of the car, he double checked the 40 caliber pistol nestled in the holster at his side and zipped up the jacket to conceal it.

He crossed the street and paid little attention to the traffic honking at him as he weaved through traffic, and went inside the main lobby of Delacroix Industries. It was furnished in a contemporary look, with a lot of glass, metal and black granite. A deceptive simplicity hid an exorbitant cost, for Seifer was no stranger to the price of quality granite. He'd paid through the nose for just a few square feet of granite in a charcoal gray for the butcher's block in his recently remodeled kitchen. Here, the stuff was everywhere. The floor. The walls. The counter top at reception. Even the pillars were clad in the stuff.

He ignored the desk and stalked to the elevator after a quick glance at the directory. He had no real purpose here, he just wanted to take a look around. Maybe something would stand out but he doubted it. This was mostly just to satisfy his curiosity.

On the 15th floor, where the main offices were, the woman from the apartment sat at a reception desk near a set of double doors marked with a brass plaque. Seifer had expected a floor of cubicles, not Delacroix's actual office.

On the reception desk was a nameplate.

_Lorraine DeLong._

"You Delacroix's secretary?" Seifer asked.

"Personal assistant," she said tersely. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I got the wrong floor," Seifer said. "Sorry."

He stepped back into the elevator wondering what the hell Delacroix and his _personal assistant_  were up to.

* * *

Zell stood in a flower shop that catered to the rich and entitled, sniffling a little as the heavy, heady scent of flowers made him want to sneeze. He wasn't exactly allergic, but so much perfume and pollen concentrated in one single space was too much for his sinuses to handle.

He retreated to the corner of the room, where non-blooming plants were displayed, and waited for the shopkeeper to return with her list of orders for the last week. At his hip, his phone buzzed and he checked it to see he had a message from Seifer.

_Call me when you get a chance._

No smartass comments, no chicken references. Just the message. That was unusual for Seifer. The last text he'd gotten from him was nothing but a drawing of a cartoon chicken in a corset. Whatever it was, it must be important for Seifer to forgo his usual mockery.

Zell pocketed the phone as the florist came out of the back with a stack of orders and a ledger.

"I can confirm there was no order for Delacroix," the florist said. "But, there was an unusually large order for the Kilroy estate. Yep. It's right here. Five dozen of a rose called the  _Blood of Hyne_ , ordered by Mrs. Kilroy and delivered the following day."

"Where?" Zell asked. "The Kilroy estate, or somewhere else?"

"Well, this is unusual," the florist said, perplexed. "I don't know this address. Looks to be on the other side of town."

It wasn't familiar to Zell either, but judging by the zip code, it was residential. He jotted down the address and thanked the florist.

He had an hour before he had to take Rinoa to the Decatur St. Homeless shelter for her shift in the soup kitchen. Zell thought it was cool that she did stuff like that. Throwing money at the problem was great and all, but it was really nice of her to jump in and help, too. Not that Rinoa had ever been a bystander when it came to the welfare of others, but it was nice to know that even with a ton of money behind her, she was still game to get her hands dirty.

As he got in his rental car, he wondered how she and Squall were getting along. Zell had taken her to the clothing drive this morning and had passed her off to Squall around lunch time. The tension between them was as thick as gas station coffee and neither dared look at the other. Seifer had said to encourage it, but from what he could see, there wasn't much to encourage.

Since he had a few minutes to spare, he decided to find out where the address was and he plugged it into his GPS.

Ten minutes later, he parked in front of a town house with a modest 4-door vehicle in the driveway. He got out to take a look around but froze when he saw the name on the mail box.

_Leonhart/Loire_

"Oh, shit."

Zell took his phone from his pocket and called Seifer back. It went to voicemail. He sent a message, in need of an opinion besides Squall's. Seifer was his best and only option.

_Shit's just gone sideways. Cluck-cluck, Lap-dog. Call me. Now._

* * *

In his office, Seifer flipped through the photos he'd taken earlier as he he waited for Quistis to figure out a time that was good for her to meet up with him.

"I can meet you in Dollet on Sunday," Quistis said. "Does that work?"

"I can make it work."

"Should I make a reservation?"

"No, I'll take care of it," Seifer said. "Just get yourself on that train."

"You sound eager," she said. "You don't miss me or anything, do you?"

He did, but he wouldn't admit it. He wanted her now. Two hours ago. Yesterday. He wouldn't be happy until he could have her all the time, every day, whenever he wanted. But he wouldn't say that. Not out loud.

His phone buzzed. It was a message from Dincht. Seifer was about to blow it off, until he saw what it said.

"Quis, I've gotta go," he said. "Chicken-face has something for me."

"Remind him that I need an update by end of day," Quistis said. "Just a quick message to let me know how it's going."

"I can tell you that," Seifer said. "It's a cluster fuck. Nobody knows what the hell is going on. Not me. Not Squall, not Chicken-wuss. I'll see you Sunday."

"Looking forward to it," she said. Her voice was a soft, husky purr in his ear that went straight to his groin.

He dialed Zell as soon as he hung up but didn't get an answer. So it was like that, was it?

He set the phone aside and sifted through the photos again. He didn't understand this. Why was Delacroix's secretary visiting with him in a private location every day, and why had she visited Caraway under such suspicious circumstances? None of it added up, but he was sure of one thing. Delacroix was not as squeaky clean as they'd been led to believe.

His phone rang and he answered, glad for once to hear Zell's voice on the other end.

"I think Squall's being set up," Zell said.

He didn't wait to get Seifer's reaction before he explained what he found at the florist. The more Seifer heard, the more it seemed Squall might actually be a target.

"And get this," Zell said. "When I went back to the florist to find out who signed for the delivery, the invoice had Squall's signature on it."

"For real?" Seifer asked. "Or a forgery?"

"I don't know yet. Looks like his handwriting. I took a picture for comparison," Zell said. "Haven't had a chance to put them side by side yet."

"Was the delivery time stamped?"

"Yeah. About 11 am, the date the maid was found," Zell said. "The driver couldn't give a good description, but he said dark hair, scruffy looking, leather jacket."

"Fuck," Seifer said. "You don't think Squall's behind this."

"Hell no," Zell said. "I think someone's doing a bang-up job of making it look like him, though."

"What have you got on the Kilroy's?" Seifer asked.

"Not much. Lance Kilroy inherited an obscene amount of money from his grandfather," Zell said. "He's head of a cosmetics manufacturer, in name only. Shows up to board meetings every now and then, but mostly, he hangs out on his estate shooting clay and getting drunk on martinis."

"Must be nice," Seifer said. He couldn't imagine having so much money he could get away with doing nothing. "What about his wife?"

"Order was made in her name," Zell said. "She doesn't do much but shop and spread gossip."

"I'll see what I can dig up," Seifer said. "I've got some weird shit going on here, too."

He shared his news with Zell, who was just as perplexed as Seifer was.

"Her dad can't be part of this," Zell said. "That doesn't make any sense."

"He opposed Timber's liberation," Seifer said. "I'm still betting whoever is behind all this lost something when Timber gained independence. The man's not exactly an icon of morality."

"Yeah, but I just don't see him doing anything to hurt her," Zell said. "I mean, he's kind of a dick, but... I just don't see it."

"Maybe not, but he looked awfully guilty when that woman walked in the door."

"Blackmail, maybe?"

"Could be," Seifer agreed.

"What the hell do I tell Squall?" Zell asked.

"Don't tell him shit," Seifer said. "Not yet. Find out if it's possible he was at his place when the roses were delivered. If it looks like we have a concern, bring him in the loop. Otherwise, he doesn't need to stress over this yet."

"I dunno," Zell said. "I'm sorta working for him."

"And it's in his best interest for you to keep your mouth shut for the time being," Seifer said. "Let's see what we can dig up first."

"All right," Zell said reluctantly. "Keep me posted."

"Will do," Seifer said. "By the way. I'm curious. Were your kids born with feathers, or just chicken legs?"

He wasn't at all surprised when Zell hung up on him.

* * *

After Rinoa had returned from her volunteer duties, and after Lily had been picked up from school, but before they had to get ready for Miranda DeLong's fund raiser, Squall took Rinoa out back and set up a paper target above the ocean. Her hands shook as he placed his 9mm pistol in her palm and she looked at it like it would explode.

"Don't be afraid of it," Squall said. "It's not that different from your Shooting Star."

"It feels different," she said.

"I promise you, it isn't," he said. "The only real difference is the projectile is much smaller but more powerful."

She already had half of this down, she just didn't know it.

"The sight is just like your weapon," he said, pointing out the small dot at the end of the barrel. "Line up your target, just like you would if you were using the Shooting Star."

She lifted the gun and he adjusted her hands so that her thumbs were locked together and both arms were locked and extended.

"You can hold it this way," he said, "Or you can use the isosceles grip."

He mimicked it for her, feet hip width apart, one foot slightly back with his left arm bent so his palm could cup the bottom of the grip.

"Try them both out," he said. "Use whichever is more comfortable."

"I think I like the second better," she said. "It's more like how I fire the Shooting Star."

"Okay, then we'll proceed with that one," he said. He placed his palm under her right elbow and pushed it slightly upward. "Keep this arm locked. Your left hand is your support."

It was easier to be near her in training mode. He could shut out his personal feelings when his mind was on things he knew and understood. So long as he kept his focus on teaching, he would get through it without falling to pieces or be tempted to touch what didn't belong to him.

"Expect some recoil," he said. "It's going to kick back at you, so make sure you keep that arm locked."

"Got it."

He slid a set of earphones over her head, then put on a pair of his own. She chambered a round and took aim at the target.

She unloaded all ten rounds, pulling the trigger until the magazine was empty. From where he stood, he saw seven out of ten rounds had hit the critical area. Two had gone outside and one had gone astray.

It wasn't bad for a first try. Squall hadn't done so well his first time out.

"Good," he said.

"That was fun," she said.

"Wanna go again?"

"Why, yes. Yes, I do."

She ejected the empty magazine and Squall handed her a new one.

"Go for it."

This time, all ten rounds went inside the critical zone, hitting heart and lungs on the imaginary attacker. She had good aim, just as she'd had with her Shooting Star back in the day. When the magazine was empty, she looked disappointed.

"Now try this one. Same thing, bigger bullets, bigger recoil."

He handed her a .40 caliber pistol he'd liberated from the safe earlier. It was a much more powerful gun, with a much stronger recoil. This time, only five of the rounds hit the target. Still, if she were to have fired it at a real assailant, he would not be getting up. Three of the five had gone straight through the heart.

"Good," he said with approval. "You're getting the hang of it."

Lily was drawn out of the guest house by the noise.

"You shouldn't be out here, kiddo," he said.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Squall's showing me how to shoot," Rinoa said.

"Why?"

"Just in case," Rinoa said. "I'm here alone a lot. Thought it might be a good idea to learn how."

"Can I try?" Lily asked.

Squall had learned to shoot at an early age, younger than Lily was now, though it had only been a .22 long barrel marksman's pistol with almost no recoil to speak of. It had been a requirement for all gunblade candidates to first learn to use firearms. Even though the gunblade didn't fire rounds, it used the same mechanism to charge the blade for a more powerful strike. It taught them to get used to the blasts and the recoil. Not to mention, most SeeDs carried a sidearm as a back-up, in case their primary weapon was lost or damaged.

It might be a good idea to get Lily comfortable with firearms, not that he planned for her to ever need one, but he didn't see the harm if he helped her hold it while she fired.

"Come here," he said.

He walked her through basic gun safety, taking care to explain that it wasn't a toy and that mishandling could cause injury or death. Then he showed her the proper way to hold it when she wasn't taking aim.

"Always make sure that muzzle is pointed at the ground when you're not locked on a target, Lil. This goes for you, too, Rin," Squall said. " And never put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to fire. Understand?"

Lily nodded.

"Never aim at anyone or anything unless you really mean it, Lil," Squall said. "This is very important, so pay attention. You never pull out a weapon unless you intend to use it. Not to scare someone, not to show off, and never just for fun. It's a weapon and it can kill you or someone else, so if you pull it on someone, you better mean it."

"Okay," she said. "I mean, I promise, I won't."

"Second, you always treat a firearm as if it was loaded. Never assume there isn't a round in the chamber just because the magazine is ejected or empty."

Lily had difficulty drawing the slide back to chamber a round so Squall assisted. He took a knee behind her and positioned her in the correct stance, then placed his headphones over her ears and a pair of protective glasses over her eyes.

"Ready?" he asked.

Lily nodded and Squall wrapped his hands around hers, ready to brace her if the recoil was too strong. She had to use two fingers to pull the trigger and when she did, she shrieked, nearly let go of it and leaned back into Squall's chest, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Wow."

Squall laughed softly at her reaction.

"Had enough?"

"No," she said. "Can I try it again?"

"Sure."

He took a firmer hold of the grip so that the recoil wouldn't startle her as much. She fired the remaining nine rounds slowly, getting closer to the target with each attempt.

"Not bad, kiddo," he said. He pressed his cheek to hers as they both looked at the target. "That guy's not getting up."

"That was scary, but kinda fun."

"We'll try again another day if you want," Squall said. "With something less powerful."

"Can we?" Lily asked hopefully.

"Sure," Squall said. "But not today. Rinoa and I have to get ready."

"I wish I could go with you," Lily said wistfully. "I've never been to a ball."

"Trust me, it's not as fun as it sounds," Rinoa assured her.

"You get your homework done?" Squall asked.

"Yep," Lily said. "All done. It's in my bag if you wanna check."

"You like the new school so far?" Rinoa asked as Squall collected the weapons and safety gear.

"Love it," Lily said. "The teachers are super nice, and the kids are pretty cool. A lot of them are kinda like me. Weirdos and bookworms and art nerds."

It was only the first day, but it seemed like she was going to fit in. When Squall had picked her up, the sullen girl he'd lived with for the past few months was gone, and in her place was a bright eyed and enthusiastic chatterbox. She'd actually shared the day's events with him, and had talked about her classes and teachers, and about how much she'd liked her afternoon pottery class. She hadn't uttered the word _whatever_  once.

"I'm making a decorative bowl," Lily said proudly to Rinoa. "It's not done. I still have to paint and glaze it but I think it'll be really neat."

"That sound like a lot of fun," Rinoa said. "Just don't forget about the little people when you become super famous, Lily."

Lily giggled and rolled her eyes.

"Artists only become famous  _after_  they croak, you know," Lily said. "You have to die tragically to get famous."

"Lily," Squall scolded.

"It's true," Lily said and began to list names of artists who lived in poverty their whole lives and only sold paintings after they had passed on.

Squall tuned it out as they returned to the guest house to change for the event. Rinoa's dress had been delivered earlier, and her hairdresser was set to arrive any minute. It took Squall twenty minutes to get ready, including the time it took to trim his beard into something that didn't make him look like something Rinoa had dragged back from the homeless shelter. Rinoa took far longer. Two hours longer, but by the time she emerged from Lily's bedroom, Squall almost didn't recognize her.

She wore a gunmetal colored silk gown that nearly made his eyes fall out of his head. It was elegant and sophisticated but wildly sexy and unlike anything Squall had ever seen her in before. Dark, shimmery fabric dipped low in the front and revealed an alluring hint of cleavage and collarbone and bare shoulder. The skirt was simple and straight, cut high on one side to reveal a mile of slender leg. Her back was bare to her hips, revealing a tattoo in a faint, whitish-gray swirling design that resembled wings.

Without thinking, Squall traced the design on her skin with a fingertip. It was only then that he remembered that her Sorceress-self had wings. Beautiful, breathtaking pearly-white wings that spanned 12-feet across. They'd been astonishing the first time he'd seen them. And the second. And every time after that. He was willing to bet, if he saw them now, they would still steal his breath away.

Rinoa turned to him, surprised as he took a step back, embarrassed by his own behavior. He hadn't meant to touch her. At least, not like that.

"When did you get that?"

"I didn't. It showed up a couple years ago," she said. "Apparently a Sorceress thing."

For an instant, he imagined kissing those lines and could almost hear the breathy sound of her gasps as his lips traveled over her skin. His cheeks warmed and he was forced to look away, afraid that she could hear his thoughts.

"Wow," Lily said. "You look so pretty."

"Thanks," Rinoa said. "That's nice of you to say."

"Doesn't she look pretty, Squall?" Lily prompted, cocking an eyebrow at him as though to remind him of his manners.

"You look scandalous," Squall blurted out.

"Good," Rinoa said with a smile. "That's the point."

As she moved across the room, he couldn't take his eyes off her, or the way her leg peeked out from under the fabric as she walked. In all their years together, she had never worn anything this revealing or overtly sexy, but he had to admit, if she had, they wouldn't have made it wherever they were going.

"Help me with the necklace?" she asked.

He opened the offered jewelry box and took a second look at the gems he'd retrieved earlier. Three tiers of smoke-colored diamonds of various cuts in an asymmetrical platinum setting sparkled in the lamplight. It was an unusually modern take on traditional diamond jewelry, but it was stunning and most certainly expensive. With care and trembling hands, he swept her hair aside and slid the chain around her neck and fastened it.

A sudden and overwhelming desire to press his lips to the nape of her neck forced him to take a step back. If she sensed it, she didn't let on.

He should have asked Zell to go in his place. The way she looked was enough to drive him mad with desire. If Squall didn't get a hold of himself, they were both in trouble.

She put on the matching earrings, and then turned to him with a soft smile on her painted lips. Dark and dramatic eye make up gave her a dangerous and feral appeal, like something wild and untamed and darkly beautiful. Not for the first time, he sensed her power over him, but this time he knew how easily she could assert that power if she wanted to. He would fall on his knees if she kept smiling at him that way.

Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?

"Let's go see who bites, shall we?" she said.

The sexed-up outfit suddenly made sense. She wanted to see if it would draw out whomever was responsible for terrorizing her. She wanted to draw attention to herself, but also to show she was powerful and unafraid. If she played her cards right, it might even work.

He shouldn't have been surprised she had her own agenda. Of all the things he should have remembered about her, the fact that she wasn't one to sit back and watch things happen to her was the very first thing that should have come to mind. She would not be a spectator. Not in her own life, and not in the lives of others.

It was smart, but maybe dangerous. He unconsciously thumbed the pistol in its holster and offered her his arm. It was almost disappointing that she hadn't dressed this way for him. And disappointing to know that he wanted it to be for him, and only him.

The ride to the DeLong estate was uneventful. Both of them retreated to their respective corners of the bench seat in the limo. Squall stared out the window to avoid looking the curve of her shapely leg revealed by the slit in her dress. Rinoa helped herself to the champagne in the fridge but Squall refrained. He needed and wanted a clear head tonight, for more than one reason.

"So what's the plan?" Rinoa asked.

"I'm just here to make sure nothing happens to you and to observe," Squall said. "Socialize, do whatever it is you do at these things, just make sure you stay in my line of sight. I don't want to have to go find you."

"Don't worry," she said. "You won't have to."

"And... Don't drink too much," he said. "In case something does happen, I need you to be able to respond quickly to direction."

The DeLong Estate was much different than the Delacroix property. The grounds were open and clean, the landscaping minimal. The front of the property featured a dozen or so fountains and reflecting pools that were lit from the bottom. It might have been tasteless and overdone in any other setting, but the arrangement and lighting cast a fluid, watery pallor over the grounds that was calming and visually pleasing. The house itself was a huge colonial with grand arched windows and doors. A line of limos led up to the front door, where couples got out one by one and were escorted inside.

Rinoa took Squall's arm as she climbed out of the car. Her whole demeanor changed as they strode up the walk. Where before she'd been more like the girl he'd known, her posture now was that of a woman who was confident and poised and absolutely sure of herself. There was not even a hint of her girlish nervousness of the past. She had the bearing of a politician or an aristocrat as she walked through the door and offered greetings to those she knew and accepted introductions from those she didn't. She did all this with grace and poise, as though she wasn't dressed to kill but campaigning for office.

Squall was all too aware of the looks she received as he escorted her inside. The women were put-off or shocked or even envious at her daring choice, but the men stared with open admiration and longing. It made Squall want to ball up his fists and fight them. Instead, he stared down them down until they averted their eyes.

The jealous monster roared every time he caught someone looking too long. All the parts they admired belonged to  _him_  and no one had a right to look at her that way.

Damn her husband. Damn that ring on her finger. Damn that dress that made all the men in the room stare.

"Relax," Rinoa breathed in his ear. "They can look all they want."

She had picked up on his hostility and unwarranted possessiveness. He would have to do a better job of not projecting his thoughts. He just wasn't sure how to keep it from her anymore.

"I wish you'd have worn something less distracting," he muttered.

"Am I distracting you?" she teased.

"Me and everyone else in the room."

"Noni, you look stunning," a young blonde cried said as she approached. "That dress is so daring!"

"Thank you," Rinoa said to be polite.

"I wish I had the guts to wear something like that," the blonde said. "Lance wouldn't let me out of the house showing that much skin."

"Lacey, you remember Leo Loire, my head of security," Rinoa said. "Leo, this is Lacey Kilroy."

"I remember," Lacey said, batting her long eyelashes at him. "Good to see you."

"Same."

Squall's first impression of Lacey Kilroy was ditsy and spoiled. The kind of girl that married money, came from money, and had never lifted a finger in her life. She might have been smart, but her lifestyle didn't require much thinking beyond what shoes to pair with her outfit and whether or not she should wear her hair up or down. Most of her conversation with Rinoa revolved around who looked fabulous and who didn't. Rinoa was game to contribute, though her sly glance at Squall said she wasn't particularly interested in who wore last season's fashions and who wore new and upcoming designers.

"Come," Lacey said as she took Rinoa's arm. "Let's get a drink."

Squall followed them to the bar, where Rinoa ignored his suggestion to lay off and ordered a hefty concoction containing three different kinds of alcohol mixed with pineapple juice. He ordered a tonic water on ice. Might as well make it look like he was indulging, even if he wasn't. People would be less guarded if it appeared he was off duty.

"Any luck finding out who's behind those awful murders?" Lacey asked.

"Not a clue," Rinoa said. "There's so little evidence..."

"You must be so worried," Lacey said. "With Florian gone and all."

"Leo and his team are doing a great job looking out for me while he's away," Rinoa said.

"I just don't understand who would do this to you," Lacey said. "You're the sweetest, kindest, most non-threatening Sorceress I've ever met."

Squall cocked his head at her, his interest piqued.

"You've met other Sorceresses?" he asked.

"Well, not recently," Lacey said. "I met that Edea woman when I was a teenager. She was  _terrifying_. I felt like she could see right into my soul. I'm so glad you're not like her, Noni."

"She was possessed," Rinoa reminded her gently. "The Sorceress you met wasn't the real Edea. The real one is one of the kindest people I've ever known. She took in orphans after the Estharian War, you know."

"Yes, yes, I know," Lacey said. "And then turned them all into killers for hire."

Rinoa's grip on Squall's arm tightened. Her fingernails dug through the sleeve of his jacket hard enough to bruise.

_Lay off, Rin._

"They're more than just killers," Rinoa said as she loosened her grip. "Most of them are really good people."

"I hear they'll do just about anything for money," Lacey said with disdain. "Just dreadful, if you ask me."

Rinoa clearly didn't like the turn the conversation had taken, but what Lacey said was close to the truth. SeeD would take just about any contract if the price was right.

"It must be a very hard life," Lacey said. "I can't even imagine growing up in a place like that."

"It's a lot like camp," Rinoa said. "And boarding school. But with weapons training."

It was a fair assessment, if not an overly simplistic one. But, Squall supposed if boarding school and camp involved learning to choke a man to death at the age of eight, then she wasn't all that far off.

"Silly me," Lacey said. "I keep forgetting about your past. I don't mean to be nosy, but... Did you ever kill anyone besides that awful Sorceress? Everyone's dying to know."

Rinoa's expression turned from friendly to steely in an instant.

"Unfortunately, yes," Rinoa said. "Mostly in self defense. Unless you count Ultimecia."

"What was that like?" Lacey asked, eyes glittering with undue curiosity. "Killing someone? Did you enjoy it?"

"It was horrible," Rinoa said. "But... Sometimes there's no other choice."

She'd taken her first kill harder than Squall had expected her to, and up until then, he hadn't known she'd never had to do it before.

" _What if he had a family?" she'd asked on the train back to Balamb. "A wife. Kids."_

" _He was a soldier. He signed up for it."_

" _Still..." she said as she wiped tears from her eyes. "I wish I didn't have to..."_

_It was part of the job description. In a perfect world, there would be no need to fight, but she was a revolutionist. She must have known the risk. Hadn't she prepared herself for the potential loss of life? Did she really believe she'd be able to free Timber without bloodshed?_

" _I can't stop thinking about it," she said. "How can you be so calm?"_

" _SeeDs are trained to think of it as collateral damage," Squall said. "We don't see a man with a family, but someone standing in the way of our goal."_

" _That's so cold. Don't you feel bad?"_

_If he felt anything, he wouldn't acknowledge it._

" _I... It was him or you, Rinoa. Sometimes, you don't have a choice."_

" _I know that, I just... I feel so bad."_

" _The first one's the hardest," he said, not unsympathetically._

_His field exam was the first time he'd ever faced humans in battle. He'd personally taken out 15 G-Army soldiers in Dollet, and never once had he thought of them as people. He'd been trained not to. They'd just been threats. Soldiers, like him, and death was merely an occupational hazard._

" _Do you want to go back to Timber? We can put you on a train as soon as we arrive in Balamb. In fact, that might be for the best."_

" _No way," she said. "You're still under contract."_

" _Right," Squall said. "The contract."_

" _So eager to get rid of me," she said._

" _It isn't that..." he'd murmured. "I... Don't want you to get hurt."_

_For the first time since she'd accosted him on the dance floor, there was a little flutter of something in his chest. A little bit of empathy. A desire to protect her. A little bit of hope, and for a boy who had never hoped for anything, it was terrifying._

Little had he known he would be blindsided by the depth of his feelings for her not so long after that. At the time, all she'd been was a client he'd grown rather fond of and had learned to respect in spite of their differences.

Her openness, determination, and vivacity had been fascinating to him. He'd grown up around girls that were all about procedure and policy and battle tactics. Planning and preparation and training. He'd never met a girl who operated the way she did, and though her talent for improvisation had gotten her into trouble, he had to grudgingly give respect for her willingness to take a risk and her ability to plan on the fly. Even if the result was often stupid and dangerous.

"I think I'd like to dance," Rinoa said stiffly, bringing Squall back to the present. "Leo, would you?"

He didn't particularly feel like it, but he sensed her annoyance with Lacey. She led him out to the floor by the hand, the way she'd done the first time they'd met. He longed for his gloves, for some barrier to put between them so that he didn't have to make direct contact with her bare skin.

It was too late now. He'd already agreed and to change his mind now would look suspicious to the morbid blonde who watched them like a hawk from the edge of the dance floor.

"Did that conversation seem weird to you?" Rinoa asked.

"Which part?"

She gave him a pointed look as he led her around the floor. Under his calloused palm, her bare back was cool and soft. It was all he could think about for a few seconds.

"I can't believe she asked me that," Rinoa said. "About killing people."

"Do you think she's responsible?"

"...no," Rinoa said, "but, what kind of question is that? Why would she want to know?"

Squall doubted Mrs. Kilroy had anything to do with it, but there was something off about her. Perhaps he just wasn't used to people who lived for gossip or circled around scandalous information like a hungry shark.

"God, I hate this," she said. "I hate these catty bitches, always throwing the war in my face! Like it's something to be ashamed of! Not one of them did a thing when everything went to hell, yet they judge me for picking up a a weapon and fighting back."

"Keep your voice down," Squall said, even though he empathized.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so fed up with the whole thing," she said. "I hate it. I hate these people and I hate these stupid parties and I hate being called Noni. Why Ian started calling me that in the first place is beyond me, but I  _hate_  it."

Squall decided right then and there Rinoa was done drinking for the night. Neither could afford a scene or a meltdown like her last, and he had a feeling that's where she was headed if she indulged.

"Sometimes, I just want to walk away," she said. "Just forget all this, but, Timber's still a mess, and people still need me."

He wondered why she was saying this to him. Especially here and now, where someone might overhear and spread rumors.

"You know my husband told me to have an affair?" she said quietly. "Like, it's totally cool with him for me to just go out and bang the poolboy if I want to. What kind of marriage is that? Huh?"

Delacroix suggested she have an affair? To what end? To serve as a substitute for what he couldn't give her? Or was there some other reason?

Seifer had told Squall about the apartment in Deling City. Perhaps Delacroix was the one having the affair. Usually, when a man suggested an open relationship, it was because he wanted one himself.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore," she said. Her eyes were fixed on his tie. "Or why. I just want to run away."

" _I'm so tired of being followed, everywhere we go," she said._

" _Maybe we should just run away."_

" _Everyone knows what we look like. There's nowhere to run."_

" _We could go live on an island," he said._

_She laughed. "We already live on an island."_

" _A different one," he said. "With no people. Just us."_

_She tugged off his gloves and cast them aside to thread her fingers through his. The gloves landed on the floor, next to the bed. He wanted to pick them up, but he didn't want to let go._

" _We could build a little house out of bamboo and palm leaves," she said as she opened his uniform jacket. "Right on the beach."_

" _I'll teach you to spear fish," he murmured and leaned down to kiss her throat. "We'll eat coconuts until we're sick of them."_

" _And we won't have to worry about clothes._

_She stripped his jacket off with a flourish._

" _I don't know about that," he said. "Clothes protect our skin from the sun."_

" _You'll get over it," she purred. Her fingers slid underneath the hem of his t-shirt. "I think I'd like to see you with an all-over tan."_

" _Too much sun causes wrinkles and cancer."_

_He frowned at Rinoa's snort of laughter. A moment later, she shoved him down on the bed and pulled off his boots. She tossed them aside, too and Squall resisted the urge to get up and put them in the closet where they belonged. She knew disorder made him crazy. She was doing this on purpose._

" _If you age like your father, you have nothing to worry about," she assured him. He disliked the comparison and she knew it. "Although, if you keep that up, you're going to have permanent frown lines before you turn twenty-five."_

_He faked a smile and she hit him upside the head with a pillow before she dropped down onto the bed beside him. A slender arm snaked around his waist and her smile faded as she snuggled closer._

" _They're never going to let us live in peace."_

" _They'll forget about it," he promised. "Eventually."_

" _...no, they won't."_

The more Squall tried not to remember, the more things came back. It was bittersweet, memories like this one. They'd made the best of it, even as reporters interrupted dinners out and photographers followed them to the beach. If they'd hoped it would get better, it never did.

"Anybody home?" Rinoa asked. She snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Just thinking."

"I can tell," she said. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to freshen up."

He escorted her from the dance floor to the restroom and waited outside the door.

Farther down the hall, a man lingered. His eyes were on the bathroom door, but he cast furtive glances at Squall as though he waited for him to leave. Squall pretended boredom as he waited but kept an eye on the young man, who drew closer to the restroom, then feigned interest in a nearby painting.

When Rinoa emerged, Squall offered his arm and led her to the opposite corner of the ballroom without looking back.

"What are you doing?"

"Tell you in a minute."

He found a spot on the far side of the ballroom with a good view and waited. As expected, the man had followed them out. Squall didn't look at him, but watched from the corner of his eye as the man made his way through the crowd to stand a few tables away. His eyes were locked on Rinoa, not with lustful interest but with deep scrutiny.

"Don't be obvious, but see the dark haired guy with the green tie?" Squall asked. "Standing three tables away?"

"What about him?"

"Do you know him?"

"Looks familiar, but, no."

"He's following us," Squall said.

"Let's go introduce ourselves," Rinoa said. "Can't hurt, right?"

She grabbed Squalls arm and dragged him along like a stubborn pet. Squall slipped his phone from his pocket and pretended to check his messages. He snapped a photo and got a clear shot of the man's face. Up close, Squall saw the man could not be older than twenty and similar in height and build to himself.

"Hi there," Rinoa said as she cornered him and offered her hand. "I don't think we've been introduced. I'm Rinoa Delacroix. And you are?"

"I... uh, I gotta go," the young man said.

He pushed past Rinoa and darted off. Squall followed, but lost him in the crowd of revelers near the bar.

"He's just a kid," Rinoa said. "I don't think he meant any harm."

"Don't assume anything."

Rinoa shrugged and then stiffened as the two other ladies Squall had met previously made their way over. Rinoa ducked them and struck up a conversation with an ancient and extravagantly dressed woman a few tables away. On the woman's head was a hat-like thing that may or may not have been a peacock. Squall recognized her from Laguna's circle but he couldn't recall her name.

"Emelda," Rinoa said. "So nice to see you!"

Right. Emelda Fontaine. Laguna was fond of her, or so Squall thought. Widow of a banker. Wealthy as sin. Loud, opinionated, and cantankerous as all get-out.

"You too, dear," Emelda said. "And look at you! Stealing a page from my own play book, I see. Wearing the most shocking thing you can find. I  _love_  it. I bet these haughty little bitches are all just green with envy."

"Dare to be different," Rinoa agreed.

"Cheers to that," Emelda said. She lifted her glass with a wicked smile. "I missed seeing you at Miranda's last event. You're not like these others, Rinoa dear. You've got a good, strong head on your shoulders and a big heart. The rest of them, heads full of cotton and hearts of stone, I tell you."

"That's sweet of you to say," Rinoa said.

"Well, it's true," Emelda insisted. She glanced at Squall. "Replaced your husband for the evening, did you?"

The woman eyed Squall up and down like he was something delicious to eat. Cheesecake. Caviar. Duck comfit. He forced a smile and nodded to be polite.

"This is Leo, my head of security," Rinoa said. "I'm sure you've heard about the awful time I've had lately."

"Yes, I've been meaning to check up on you, darling, but I keep forgetting," Emelda said. She touched her fingers to her forehead and sighed. "My mind's not what it used to be, sad to say, but you don't get to be my age without losing a few marbles along the way."

Emelda's laugh was grating, but Squall decided he rather liked the old bird. She was obnoxious, but at least she was straightforward and didn't mince words.

"I am, however very disappointed in your husband," Emelda said. "Leaving you all alone at a time like this. You'd think he would know better, considering what happened last time."

"Last time?" Rinoa asked. Her fingers dug into Squall's arm again. "What happened last time?"

"You don't think you're the first Sorceress to grace Florian's doorstep, do you?" Emelda asked. "No, this isn't his first rodeo, dear."

Delacroix had a prior association with a Sorceress? That was the first Squall had heard of it. Judging by Rinoa's expression, she hadn't known either.

"Pushed all that under the rug, they did. But this isn't the time and place to discuss that awful mess," Emelda said. "Perhaps we might have tea before I leave town?"

"I'd love that," Rinoa said. "Why don't you join me Sunday at the house? Say, around two?"

Both women wore a shrewed, conspiratorial expression, as if they understood one another.

"Your place is even better," Emelda agreed. "More privacy, fewer people listening in on conversations  _they aren't a part of!_ "

Emelda's head snapped to the left and her eyes narrowed at the two eavesdroppers Rinoa had hoped to avoid earlier.

"Mind your own business," Emelda warned.

The two women linked arms and drifted away, heads together as the whispered back and forth. Once or twice, they glanced back at Rinoa and then Squall.

"I'll be going now, darling," Emelda said. She pressed a kiss to Rinoa's cheek and patted Squall's arm. "Looking forward to seeing you. The both of you."

Rinoa and Squall exchanged a glance as the woman walked away. Squall knew she was thinking the same thing he was:

There was a lot Florian Delacroix hadn't told them.


	11. Chapter 11

 

“Danielle was a nice girl,” Emelda Fontaine said. “A sweet girl. And Florian adored her.”

The old woman reached up to adjust the sequined headband in her slightly blue-tinted but otherwise snowy hair. The headband clashed badly with the leopard print dress she wore, but Rinoa knew Emelda didn't care one way or the other. Rumor had it, Emelda had always worn whatever she wanted. The more obnoxious, the better.

“He was in love with her?” Rinoa asked.

“Head over heels,” Emelda confirmed. “Now, Danielle had grown up dirt poor. Barely had a pot to piss in when she met Florian. Once upon a time, though, her family owned the biggest and most profitable lumber mill in Timber. When Vinzer Deling ordered the army to torch the forests, the family lost everything. So, as you can imagine, meeting a man like Florian was a dream come true for her.”

“When did they meet?” Rinoa asked.

“Well, let me see,” Emelda said, thinking to herself for a moment. “Florian must have been about 19 or 20 at the time.”

“So it was before the accident.”

“Yes,” Emelda said. “But I'll get to that.”

Beside Rinoa, Squall refilled his tea and offered Emelda another cookie. The woman declined but then changed her mind and helped herself to two more.

“They were in love,” Emelda continued. “His mother threw a fit when she found out. Especially after he said he was going to marry her. Naturally, there were rumors about Danielle getting pregnant and whatnot, which only made it worse. It wasn't true, of course, but you know how people speculate.”

Rinoa nodded. She tried to picture Florian whole, unbroken. She'd only ever known him the way he was now, and she'd only ever seen photos of him post-accident.

“But Danielle had a little secret,” Emelda said. She took a bite of her cookie and looked at Rinoa knowingly. “A big secret.”

“She was a Sorceress,” Squall filled in.

Ian had never given her the slightest indication he'd been seriously involved with anyone before her. Not with a fellow socialite, and certainly not with a Sorceress. A knot twisted in her chest as she looked to Emelda for confirmation.

“Correct. She was a Sorceress,” Emelda said. “Now, Danielle moved to the city when she was 14, following a sister who had done the same the year before.”

“So young,” Rinoa said. “Why?”

“She didn't have anywhere else to go,” Emelda said. “Creditors were about to take the family home and her father... Well, one night, he got up out of bed, shot his wife in the head, then his son Beau Jr. When he came for Danielle, she escaped and went for help. When she returned, her whole family was dead except the sister in Deling City.”

Rinoa had heard some of this story before. It was one of those tales that was whispered by the people of Timber. They'd blamed Galbadia for the murder-suicide, not the man who had pulled the trigger and used it as evidence of Galbadia's lack of concern for the citizens of the town.

“Their last name was Wilkins,” Rinoa said. “Right? Beau and Reba...?”

“So you know this story,” Emelda said.

“I've heard it around Timber.”

“Then perhaps you also know that Reba was a Sorceress?"

“I hadn't heard that,” Rinoa said. “And If I didn't know, I doubt anyone in Timber knew, either.”

“Oh, I suspect they did,” Emelda said. “They just didn't mention it, for obvious reasons.”

“To protect her and her family,” Squall said. “Galbadia would have come after them if they'd known.”

“Correct again,” Emelda said. “You're as sharp as you are handsome.”

Squall just shrugged, sipped his tea and waited for Emelda to continue

“Danielle took her mother's power,” Squall said when Emelda's scrutiny grew too intense. “That's how she became a Sorceress?”

“That's right. She was a scared 14-year-old girl who had just lost her family, her home and everything she knew,” Emelda said. “So she got on a train and went to her sister. To get work, Danielle went by an alias and she used a fake ID that said she was 18. She worked three jobs to help make ends meet and wound up working as a courier for Delacroix Industries. She actually _was_ 18 when she met Florian.”

Rinoa sat back and tried to process this. It was hard to imagine Florian unbroken, but not so hard to imagine him being head over heels in love.

“He swept that girl right off her feet,” Emelda said with a sigh. “Dressed her up in pretty things, gave her expensive jewelry, promised her the whole world. I think he truly meant to marry her.”

“What happened to her?” Rinoa asked. “Where is she?”

“Someone got wind of what she was,” Emelda said. “Did terrible things to scare her, even left a human heart on her doorstep! Florian hired body guards to look after her when he wasn't around, and sometimes even when he was. He was her Knight, but he was also a soft, spoiled boy who didn't know the first thing about how to defend her. Not that he was afraid to try, but he knew his limitations.”

“He was her Knight?” Squall asked.

“He was,” Emelda said sadly. “Anyhow, they never figured out who did it, but one night, after they left a party, they took a drive outside the city....”

“The accident? Danielle was the girl who died in the accident?” Rinoa asked.

Emelda nodded, her eyes sad and far away.

“They were followed,” Emelda said, “and forced off the road. Whoever did it only stuck around long enough to take Danielle's powers, then left them both to die in that field. Two hours later, a passing farmer found them. Danielle was gone, Florian was barely clinging to life...”

Emelda pressed a hand over her eyes as if to hold back tears. Her whole demeanor collapsed and suddenly she seemed frail and small, instead of the feisty, spirited old lady no one could stand.

“I was fond of that girl,” Emelda said. “Very fond. You remind me a lot of her, darling. She might have been poor, but she had a presence about her. Something that made everyone in the room look at her. And such a big heart! Compassionate, smart as a whip, a good head on her shoulders... In spite of what Florian's parents thought, she was perfect match for him, and they loved each other very, very much.”

Rinoa thought about the early days with Squall. How deeply, wildly in love they'd been. How he'd looked at her as though nothing else in the room existed. To know it had been that way for Florian and Danielle made her heart hurt. Not out of jealousy but because she knew what losing that felt like.

“Florian's family naturally downplayed the whole story,” Emelda said. “They made it out to be a casual fling, just another one of Florian's charity cases. The fact that she was a Sorceress was never, ever mentioned. Not to anyone. As far as I know, the only ones who ever knew the truth are myself and Florian's family. And the sister, of course.”

“How did you know?” Squall asked.

Emelda held out a fist and then opened it. In her palm, a blaze the size of a marble burned. Surprised, Rinoa's hand dropped to Squall's knee under the table. He was so startled by the display, he didn't even flinch and instead, covered Rinoa's fingers with his own.

Emelda closed her hand and when she opened it again, a single crimson feather lay in its place.

Rinoa looked at the woman with newfound respect.

“How long have you been...”

“Since I was a little girl,” Emelda said. “I don't remember it, dear. I'm too old to go that far back.”

“Adel...?” Squall wondered aloud.

“Oh, she tried, darling,” Emelda said with a soft laugh. “That didn't go so well. For her.”

“Who else knows about you?” Squall asked.

“Besides your father?” she asked. “No one living. Until now.”

“...my father.”

“You _are_ Laguna's boy, are you not?”

Under the table, Rinoa's hand was still on Squall's knee. His fingers gripped hers lightly and held on.

“...yes.”

“We've met before, darling,” Emelda said with a nod. “It was some years ago, but I never forget a face. Especially when that face reminds me of another. You look a lot like your father. Except for the eyes. You must have your mother's eyes.”

Squall scowled at the comparison but said nothing. The truth was, he looked more like his mother, but to those that had only known Laguna, there were enough similarities, especially now, to see the resemblance.

“Good man, your father,” Emelda said. “One of the few people in this world I trust. I know you have your differences, and I won't lecture.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Emelda produced a scrapbook from a massive handbag, opened it and then placed the book in front of Rinoa.

“There aren't many surviving photos,” Emelda said. “Florian's mother destroyed most of what had while he was in recovery. He didn't speak to her for almost two years over that.”

Rinoa gazed down at the photos before her. Florian and a lovely young woman with dark hair and dark eyes, both dressed in their ballroom best, gazed at one another with pure, mutual adoration. It was obvious how in love they had been. A second photo was much more casual, Danielle in a pale lavender sun dress and Florian in jeans. His arm was around her shoulders, and both smiled at the camera with big, carefree grins.

In his youth, Florian been tall and sturdy, built more like Seifer than Squall. He'd had broad shoulders and a proud, almost cocky air about him. The top of Danielle's head only reached his collar. She was delicate, petite, but not frail and she'd been very, _very_ pretty.

A third photo was a candid black and white taken of Danielle sitting on a window sill with a view of Deling City in the background. She wore nothing but a man's dress shirt as she stared contemplatively out at the day. There was something haunted in her expression.

“Florian fancied himself a photographer in those days,” Emelda said. “He talked about traveling the world taking photos of places no one had ever been. Of all the pictures he took, that was probably his best, and without a doubt, his favorite.”

Rinoa sat there, staring at the photo of a girl she would never meet, but understood in a way she hadn't expected. A Sorceress, like herself, subjected to the same kind of horror and torment, hated and misunderstood by those who didn't know her.

As far as Florian went, he was now a stranger to Rinoa. She'd known nothing of his past and had never thought to ask. Nor had he ever bothered to share this with her.

He could have told her the truth. She would have understood. She'd told him everything about her past. He knew about the war and her relationship with Squall and how she had all but sabotaged it in the end. He knew about her mother, and all about her father's coldness and his determination to lock her up until she was thirty. He knew everything there was to know about her. All her secrets and all of her mistakes and all her accomplishments. Everything.

Ian had never once mentioned being in love, or becoming a Knight to a doomed Sorceress.

Squall's fingers threaded through hers under the table as Rinoa gazed down at the photo woman who owned her husband's heart. Ian should have been the one to tell her about Danielle. Ian who should be the one to hold her hand under the table. But he wasn't here.

These tormentors might be the same ones that had killed Danielle. That was reason enough for Florian to be here with her now. He couldn't provide physical protection, but he'd been through this and could have provided emotional support. He knew how powerful the Sorceress-Knight bond was, and what it really meant, yet had left her in Squall's care.

Why had he done it? Florian knew who Squall was to her and how irresistible the bond between Sorceress and Knight. Why had he left her here alone with Squall, if he knew what that was like?

“I don't get it,” she murmured. “Why he never said anything.”

 “I suspect because it hurt too much to talk about,” Emelda said. “I can sense that you're suspicious of him, of his motives for leaving you alone with your Knight, but believe me, Florian's not perfect, but he's a good man. The sort that would do anything to make someone he loved happy. Even if it means giving up his own happiness.”

Surely she couldn't mean Ian had done this for her sake. He'd said once that he was fine with an affair, so long as she didn't fall in love. Bringing a man that she had loved as deeply as Florian had loved Danielle into the picture was the opposite of that. He must have known. He _must_ have. So, why?

“What am I supposed to do?” she wondered aloud.

“Right now, you do what's best for you,” Emelda said. “Don't worry your pretty little head about what Florian's done for you or how he might feel, darling. You need to look out for yourself right now, because the people that are after you, they won't stop until they get you. I can guarantee that.”

“Did they ever come after you?” Rinoa asked.

“They never knew about me,” Emelda said. “But if they had, they would have probably been too afraid of my reputation to try.”

Steven came to check on them and to offer a plate of finger sandwiches. He glanced anxiously at Emelda, then at Squall's hand clasped around Rinoa's under the table.

“Can I interest you in anything else?” he asked. “More tea? Cookies?”

“Thank you,” Rinoa said and surreptitiously removed her hand from Squall's thigh. “I think we're fine.”

Emelda had grown weary and Rinoa had a lot to think about. Their meeting would soon come to an end, and she had a few questions she wanted to ask before the woman retired to her hotel downtown.

“My advice to you,” Emelda said as Steven took away the dirtied dishes. “Don't trust anyone but your Knight. Not these so-called friends of ours, not your staff, and not your husband. I know Florian's a good man. I know that, but... I fear perhaps he's not made the best decisions. You understand what I mean.”

“Yes, I think so,” Rinoa said as she watched Steven wheel his cart from the room. “Who were the suspects back then? Who do they think did it?”

“Some said it was Florian's mother who arranged the whole thing. You know, give the girl a good scare, chase her off, but it went too far. Others say it's the old Descendants of Hyne cult.”  
  
“Descendants of Hyne?”

“Bunch of pathetic wannabe mystics,” Emelda said. “About twenty, thirty years back, it was fashionable, especially among the rich, to be part of some occult group or another. Some of the old families are still involved, from what I've heard, but these days no one talks about it openly. A bunch of secret society hooey, if you ask me.”

“What do they believe?” Rinoa asked.

“It depends on the day, darling,” Emelda said. “For about a year, it was all about how bad meat was for your body, so all these snotty society ladies turned their noses up at perfectly good roast and steak. Then, it was all about organic produce. And then dairy was bad. But before all that, they sometimes believed that the Sorceress was a savior, and other times, the epitome of evil. They were rumored to be led by one for a while, though I suspect that was just some silly woman who managed to get a hold of a GF. None of these people have ever seen real Sorcery or magic, so I'm sure that was the case. Bunch of fools.”

“Anyone we know involved in this?” Rinoa asked. “These days, I mean.”

“I can't say, dear,” Emelda said. “I'm no longer as welcome as I used to be in most circles, but I will say that both the Dumas family and the Kilroy families used to be very involved with the Descendants of Hyne, maybe ten years or more back. As was Florian's mother and some say Florian himself.”

Rinoa pondered that for a moment. Was that possible? Florian, a part of some weird cult? It didn't seem to jive in her mind with the man she knew. But, maybe she didn't know him as well as she thought she did.

“There was one other suspect,” Emelda continued, “though it was just a rumor and I highly doubt it has any validity.”

“Who?” Rinoa asked.

“Florian's mother believed it was Danielle's sister, Lori,” Emelda said. “If a Sorceress' powers are not taken through execution, they tend to be passed down through families, to the oldest girl. While it is possible that Lori believed those powers belonged to her, by all accounts, she loved Danielle. Would have died for her, done anything to protect her.”

“How do you know all this?” Rinoa wondered out loud.

“I was close with Florian's father before he passed on, friends most of our lives,” Emelda said. “Everyone believes my husband Chase was the brains, that he made our fortune, but it was mostly me. Chase was a beautiful idiot. Charming, but stupid. Evan Delacroix was one of a handful that knew that, and one of a handful that knew what I was and he came to me for advice when Florian started seeing Danielle. He told me everything, but by then, it was too late. Florian was a Knight, and there's no backing down from that.”

“So it really is permanent?” Rinoa asked with dismay. “The bond?”

“Not even death erases it, my dear,” Emelda said gently. “I learned that the hard way. But I don't want to talk about that...”

Tears came to the old woman's eyes and she wiped them away with a soft laugh.

“I'm getting sentimental in my old age, I suppose,” she said. “But, I know what it's like. Like to have killed me to be separated from him. Chase may have been stupid man, but he was mine. No one else in the world compared.”

“I'm so sorry,” Rinoa said. “That must have broken your heart.”

“Well, enough about me,” Emelda said, snapping out of her melancholy. “What are you going to do?”

“Fight back?”

“Good,” Emelda said. She gathered her scrap book and returned it to the huge handbag. “That's exactly what you need to do. Danielle was afraid and it showed. You don't strike me as being particularly intimidated, darling. Even if you are afraid, you go out there and act like you don't give a shit. Make sure they're afraid of _you_.”

Squall reached for her hand under the table. His grip was firm and supportive, as if he agreed with Emelda. A little display of power might be the thing she needed to get them to back off. She could and would fight back, and she was well protected. It might give her the edge she needed to get through this.

“It's been good to talk to you, dear. Please stay in touch, won't you?”

“Of course,” Rinoa promised. “I need all the friends I can get.”

“That's sweet of you to consider me a friend, darling,” Emelda said. “I have precious few of those myself. But that's my own fault for being loud and opinionated and not caring what these people think of me. You'd be wise to adopt that sort of attitude yourself. These wealthy types are terrified of a woman with a spine.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Rinoa said with a smile.

Squall helped the old woman to her feet and accepted her pat of gratitude, but gave a startled grunt when that pat extended to his backside.

“Firm,” Emelda said with approval. “You've chosen well, my dear.”

Rinoa giggled as Squall's face turned red. What she could see of it, anyway.

The woman had guts, and Rinoa was willing to bet, in her younger days, nothing had stopped Emelda from getting what she wanted.

“You're quite cute when you blush,” Emelda told Squall affectionately. “Rather like your father in that respect. No leg cramps, I see. Well, at least you didn't inherit that unfortunate quirk.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

They walked Emelda to the door and stood side by side on the front steps as they watched Emelda's car drive away. Squall thought about the things the woman had revealed and a surge of uncharacteristic hatred swelled in his chest. Florian Delacroix had known exactly who Squall was when he'd hired him. He'd known who Squall had been to Rinoa, and he'd hired him anyway.

Delacroix must have known how difficult it was to deny the bond. He must have known it was futile to resist, and he must have known how it felt to be the man responsible for a Sorceress' well being and what it felt like to have that torn away.

Squall no longer felt guilty for crossing lines or for touching when he shouldn't. Delacroix had only himself to blame. Not that Squall intended to cross any more lines if he could help it, but he was no longer felt bad about the things that had already happened.

“Squall?” Rinoa murmured as she watched the gates close.

“Yeah?”

“I understand if you want to walk away,” she said. “You have Lily to think about and a life outside all of this, so if you don't want to stick around, It's okay. I understand.”

His life was mostly work and Lily. There was nothing else, but it was tempting to pack his things, put Lily in the car and leave.

The only thing that stopped him was obligation. No matter what, and whether he liked it or not, he would not rest easy while Rinoa was in danger. If he left, she would be alone in this mess with only Zell and a pair of relatively inexperienced SeeDs to look after her. He trusted Zell, but Zell was bogged down in research, and it would be easy to make a mistake if there was too much on his plate.

“I'm in too deep to walk away now,” he admitted.

Rinoa stepped forward and threw an arm around his waist. He didn't push her away when she leaned her face into his chest but instead brought her close. Even though the logical thing to do was back away, Squall let it happen without complaint.

She only stayed for a few seconds, but in that brief embrace, Squall felt whole again. She'd always fit so perfectly in his arms, felt so right standing next to him. For just a second, it was as if years hadn't passed but only minutes. As if nothing bad had ever happened between them and there was only this, only her, and nothing else mattered.

But that wasn't reality. She stepped away and swept her eyes over the grounds.

“Can we go somewhere?” she asked. “Somewhere that isn't here?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

“We'll have to take Lily with us.”

“I'm fine with that, I just need to not be _here_.”

Squall understood. Her husband had kept important things from her, and being here was just a reminder of that.

“Lily's been bugging me to take her to the museum again,” he suggested lamely.

“Perfect,” she said. “That's perfect.”

“Go get Lil ready and I'll bring the truck around,” he said.

Ten minutes later, they pulled away from the mansion in Squall's truck. Lily chattered excitedly about their impromptu visit to one of her favorite places in the city. She'd only been to the museum one other time, but that was enough for her to declare it awesome. Squall was inclined to agree, even if art museums were not in his wheelhouse. Art, and the creation of, were a total mystery to him, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate it.

Lily dragged Rinoa through exhibits and pointed out favorite pieces. Squall followed behind, hands in his pockets and watched the two as they laughed and and whispered together. They stayed until closing time, then returned to the truck.

“Ready to go back?” Squall asked. “Maybe somewhere else?”

“Why don't we grab dinner somewhere?” Rinoa suggested.

Squall was hungry, but he wouldn't have said anything if Rinoa hadn't suggested it. He'd figured he'd just make sandwiches when they returned, but dinner out sounded like a good idea.

“Someone pick a place,” he said.

“Oooh, can we go to the seafood place near the docks?” Lily asked. “We haven't been there in a while.”

“Sounds good to me,” Rinoa agreed. “It's casual, right? Normal people, jeans and t-shirts?”

“It is,” Squall said. They were both over-dressed, but that wouldn't matter much. No one cared.

“It's a cool place,” Lily said. “They serve everything on paper plates. And they have these spicy fried shrimp that are really good. Squall hates them because they're too hot, but I get them every time we go.”

“I don't hate them,” Squall protested. “I just think they're too spicy.”

“You think black pepper's too spicy,” Lily said, rolling her eyes.

Rinoa stifled a giggle and dropped an arm around Lily's shoulders.

“I'm so glad he has you around to keep him honest.”

Squall ignored the jab and focused on driving. His mind was still spinning, and he didn't need another distraction.

The restaurant wasn't busy when they arrived, and that suited Squall fine. He wasn't comfortable in places when he had to sit elbow to elbow with people at other tables. A band was setting up outside and a few of the tables on the outdoor patio had been cleared away to make space for dancing.

“Let's sit outside,” Rinoa said as she eyed the musicians. “It's nice out.”

Squall would have preferred to sit inside, where it wouldn't be so noisy, but he was outvoted. They were seated by the water and Squall breathed in the scent of brine and ocean air. It was fresh and clean, not unlike the air outside the mansion, but it was less heavy in some indefinable way. And he couldn't deny the view of a setting sun was nice.

A long time ago, he hadn't appreciated things like this. It had never really occurred to him to look at a sky washed in color and see something besides the end of another day. Sun up, sun down, work, train, sleep. That was it. These days, maybe because of Lily and maybe not, he could appreciate the way some days died quietly, and others set the whole sky on fire.

He almost laughed at himself for such an artsy, pretentious thought, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the bands of hot pink and neon orange and gold and violet in the clouds.

“Wish I could paint a sky that looked like that,” Lily said wistfully.

“Practice,” Squall said. “You'll get it.”

“Not the same as the real thing,” she said. “Not even close.”

Squall dropped an arm around her shoulders and turned his attention to the waitress who had brought menus and glasses of ice water.

“Can I have a soda?” Lily asked. “Please?”

“You have school tomorrow,” he said. “It's too late to get all jacked up on caffeine.”

“What about root beer? There's no caffeine in that,” she said. “I checked.”

“Fine,” he said. “Root beer.”

The trick to getting along with kids, he was learning, was to pick your battles. Some things just weren't worth the fight. Though he preferred Lily choose a beverage with less sugar, it was a compromise he could live with.

“I already know what I want,” Lily said as she put away the menu. “Spicy shrimp with the honey pepper sauce.”

“That's what you get every time,” Squall said. “Maybe you should try something different.”

“Nope,” she said. “It's the spiciest thing on the menu.”

“Not everything has to melt your face off when you eat it,” Squall teased.

 “What's the fun in that?” Lily asked.

“I like to be able to taste my food, thanks,” Squall said, mussing Lily's hair. “Weirdo.”

“You're the weirdo.”

“Says the kid who puts hot sauce on her waffles.”

“You two are cute,” Rinoa said.

“And constantly in disagreement about how food should be seasoned,” Squall said.

“You like what you like,” Rinoa said. “Nothing wrong with that."

“See?” Lily said. “I'm perfectly normal.”

“If you say so.”

“Hey Squall?” Lily asked as she fiddled with a bottle of cocktail sauce. “When can I start dating?”

Squall was floored by this question. It wasn't something he'd thought he would have to deal with or think about for at least a few more years.

“Never, if I have my way,” he said and narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Well, this boy in my class, Jake? He was the one building the owl statue when we were doing the tour at school,” Lily said. “And he kinda invited me to have pizza with him and his mom some time.”

Across the table, Rinoa covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile.

“His mom would be there, so it's not like a _date_ -date, but you know,” Lily said, “I'd kinda like to go.”

“Tell Jake's mom to call me,” Squall said. “And we'll discuss it.”

 “Really?” Lily asked. She looked up from the bottle of sauce in surprise. “I thought you'd say no.”

“I didn't say yes.”

It was tough not to put a hand over his eyes and heave a great big sigh at the idea of Lily becoming boy-crazy and wanting to go on chaperoned pizza dates. She was nine, for Hyne's sake. Way to young to be thinking about boys and dating and Squall sure as hell was not prepared to deal it.

Squall hadn't dated until he met Rinoa, but he remembered all the locker room talk. He desperately wanted to lock Lily in a closet until she was in her fifties so that no boy would ever talk about her that way. As it was, he wasn't sure how he was going to handle the puberty conversation. He knew enough to give her the facts, but it was still not a conversation he was comfortable having.

From the looks of things, he might have to walk that plank much sooner than he'd thought. A lot sooner.

There was a bit of pity in Rinoa's eyes as he glanced across the table at her. A sort of knowing look that told him she knew exactly what was going on in his head.

The waitress returned to take their orders, and Squall was grateful for the interruption.

“I'll try the spicy shrimp,” Rinoa said, “and could I also get a margarita?”

“Frozen or on the rocks?”

“Frozen.”

“Oooh. Can I get one?” Lily asked.

“Absolutely not,” Squall said. “You're nine.”

“Just kidding.”

“We could make one without alcohol,” the waitress suggested.

“Really?” Lily asked.

“What happened to root beer?”

“I didn't know they could make those drinks with no alcohol.”

Squall was driving, so he stuck with water.

The band started to play, not as loud as Squall expected, and the deck filled with people. Lily and Rinoa chatted while they waited for their food but Squall watched the people around them, mostly out of habit. He needed to be aware of their surroundings, to look out for anything suspicious. Even though he was sure they hadn't been followed, he couldn't be too careful.

When the food did come, there was a lull in the conversation as the girls ate their spicy shrimp and Squall tucked into his plate of lime marinated grilled fish. As usual, the food was good and Squall found himself more relaxed than he had been in weeks.

“You've got something on your face,” Lily said to him.

He wiped at his chin but his napkin came away clean.

“Where?”

Lily reached out and smeared a glob of tartar sauce on Squall's nose.

“Right there,” she said with a giggle.

He was stunned by this behavior for a second. Then, he turned and wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rubbed his nose against her cheek, transferring the sauce back to her. She giggled and tried to squirm away from him, but he held on tighter.

The sound of her laughter did something to him.

For the first time since she'd come to live with him, he didn't feel like a duty-bound uncle but a father. A rush of pure, profound love swept over him as Lily continued to giggle and attempted to smear the sauce back.

I hit him that Lily was _his._ He might not have been her biological father, and they might not be related by blood, but she belonged to him. Somewhere along the line, he'd begun to think of her as a daughter, and not just the niece who had the misfortune of having landed in his care.

“Goofball,” he said as he eased his grip.

Still giggling, she wiggled away and popped a shrimp in her mouth.

“Dork,” she teased back.

 Squall wasn't sure if it was the new school or his increased attention or a combination of the two, but what a difference it had made. He hoped this wasn't just a passing thing because she'd gotten her way, but a permanent change for the better. It was fun to joke around with her and good to hear her laugh.

“Takes one to know one.”

“Yuck. Now I've got sauce on my cheek,” Lily complained as she wiped her face with a napkin.

“You started it,” Squall reminded her.

They stayed for a while after they'd finished eating. Rinoa ordered another margarita, and Squall got conned into dancing with Lily. He didn't even mind. He indulged her, spinning her through four or five songs before they returned to the table to find a twinkly-eyed Rinoa smiling at them like they were the most precious thing she'd ever seen.

It was full dark out now, but the deck was lit by paper lanterns in festive colors, strung overhead from one end to the other. Warm, soft pools of light dotted everything around them, less harsh than the bright spotlights over the tables inside. On stage, the band switched to old romantic standards, encouraging the lovebirds among them to head out to the floor for a slow dance or two.

“You two should dance,” Lily said.

“We should probably be heading back,” Rinoa said.

No good could come of a slow dance. Squall already walked a fine line, and having crossed it once, he didn't need more temptation to cross it again. Rinoa must have understood that, too.

He paid the bill and ignored Rinoa's protest that she would take care of it, but he allowed her to leave the tip after a minute or two of debate.

He took the long way back to the mansion rather than driving through town. He wound his way along the coastal road, ocean on one side, steep cliffs on the other and thought of how Delacroix and his Sorceress had been forced off the road and left for dead.

It turned what could have been a quiet, beautiful drive into an exercise in paranoia. Squall couldn't stop looking at the rear and side mirrors to make sure no one followed too close, and he slowed considerably around curves in the road or whenever another driver passed going the opposite direction. If either Rinoa or Lily noticed, they didn't say anything.

By the time they made it back to the property, Squall was thoroughly stressed out by the irrational fear of being followed. He was sure they hadn't been, but the paranoia lingered.

“Bed time, Lil,” Squall said. “Go wash your face and brush your teeth.”

Whether the evening had worn her out, or she was excited to go back to school, she didn't even protest. It was a relief that for one night, at least, he didn't have to argue. She brushed her teeth and returned to the living room in pajamas, pressed a kiss to Rinoa's cheek and then let Squall tuck her in.

“We should do stuff like tonight more often,” Lily said. “We had fun, didn't we?”

“We did,” Squall agreed as he brought the blanket up around her shoulders. “Get some sleep, kiddo.”

Squall tested the patio doors and ensured they were locked before he turned out the light. The doors wouldn't hold if someone wanted to get in, but they would make a lot of noise if someone tried.

Why he was so paranoid, Squall couldn't say, but he couldn't shake the idea that there was a target on his back. And if he was in danger, by extension, so was Lily.

“Squall?” Lily asked, sitting up. “What are you doing?”

“Just checking,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

“You're acting really weird,” she said.

“It's fine,” he promised. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and turned out the lamp. “Night, kid.”

“G'night _Da_ -Squall.”

Rinoa was curled up on a plush recliner on the deck, the patio doors opened to let in the breeze. She'd wrapped herself in a thick, soft cardigan and stared up at the clear night sky.

Squall made himself a drink and then joined her. He needed to call Seifer to fill him in, but Squall couldn't bring himself to discuss everything they'd learned from Emelda. He sipped his drink and relaxed into the recliner.

Rinoa owed Delacroix a call as well, but she appeared just as reluctant as he was to pick up the phone. It could wait for morning, after they'd both had time to process it.

“Why would he do this, Squall?” Rinoa wondered out loud. “It seems almost cruel. I mean, he must know exactly how this works.”

“I don't know,” Squall said. “I can't speak for him.”

“I'm just trying to figure out why,” she said. “Why lie to me? Why not tell me the truth? Why bring you in to this at all? Just to protect me? Or is it something else?”

Squall couldn't answer these questions for her. He didn't know the answers any more than she did, though they'd been on his mind too. He hadn't filled her in yet on the possible involvement her father had with the whole mess, or the possibility that Delacroix was having an affair. Given today's information overload, Squall didn't think dumping more on her was a good idea.

Tomorrow, maybe. Once the dust had settled.

“I feel like I don't know him at all,” she said. “We always said we'd tell each other everything.”

She sighed and looked at her phone. She shook her head and slipped it back into the pocket of her cardigan.

“I've been thinking about running away all night,” she said. “About packing a bag and getting on a train to Timber. Just leaving and never looking back.”

“I don't think that's the best solution,” Squall said. “You ran away before, remember?”

He hadn't meant to sound quite so harsh. She winced at his tone and returned her gaze to the star filled-sky above.

“I know. But... Am I an ungrateful brat? Be honest.”

“You were always a brat.”

“What about ungrateful?”

“...sometimes.”

He thought of those last months together and how much pressure there had been on him to cut ties with her. The strain on their relationship had made her angry and often ungrateful for what little time he _could_ make with her.

“You could be ungrateful when you didn't get your way.”

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I... I don't think I really understood how hard you were fighting for us. All I could see was you not being there... You never explained it and I'm sorry if I behaved like a spoiled brat.”

She got up and went to the railing. The breeze was strong and her hair streamed behind her like dark ribbons as she leaned forward to take in the ragged coastline below. Squall sipped his drink and watched the way the breeze whipped the silk of her dress around her legs.

“If I wasn't married anymore,” she said, “would there be a chance for us?”

The question wounded him. It conjured up images of all the easy domesticity of their early days together.

Rinoa, in bare feet and shorts, sweeping the wood floor of the living room as she sang along with silly pop songs that drove him up the wall. The petunias she'd planted in window boxes, then forgot to water. The way she'd burned a hole in his uniform with the iron and how he'd gotten some kind of subversive pleasure from having a valid excuse not to wear it. Take out dinners in paper bags after he'd run too late to make a reservation. Of fixing the squeaky cabinet under the sink and light bulb replacement. Pints of ice cream shared while they watched some unrealistic romantic comedy and laughed at the cheesy dialogue.

At the time, it had all seemed so unimportant. Now he knew better. Every second they'd had together mattered and not a second of it was a waste.

How seamlessly Lily would fit into that domestic life. Rinoa could be both a sister and a mother, something Lily sorely lacked. She could lift some of Squall's burden as a parent and give Lily the stability he was not able to provide alone.

There _was_ a chance.

But there were so many factors to consider. She was still married, and Squall was still hurt and angry that she'd left him. Even if she left Florian Delacroix tonight, Squall wasn't willing to risk Lily's happiness for his own needs. And if it didn't work out, Squall wouldn't live through losing her again.

“You're married, so your question is irrelevant.”

“What if I left him?” she asked as she turned around to face him. “Right now. Tonight. Would you go with me?”

“No.”

“You wouldn't?”

“One, you'd still be married,” he said as gently as he could, though he could do nothing to hide his bitterness. “Two, Lily's just now starting to come around and, I'm sorry, but her happiness is far more important to me than anything else, including my own. And three, what makes you think I've forgiven you enough to want some kind of future with you?”

Rinoa winced as though he'd hit her and turned away to stare at the ocean.

She'd just assumed that if she wasn't married, that if she ran, he would go with her. Like he had no other obligations but her.

Damn her for that. Damn her for just expecting him to drop everything, as if he hadn't already done that to be here now. She had created most of the mess she was in, and he had little sympathy for her dissatisfaction with her life. She had chosen to marry Delacroix, whatever their relationship, and too damn bad if she wasn't happy with the lifestyle that went along with that.

“You just assumed,” he said. “Like always. It was always about what you wanted. What you needed. And nothing's changed. Nothing at all.”

She stifled a sob and her shoulders drooped, but she didn't turn around.

“I'm sorry that hurts your feelings, Rinoa,” he said. “But it's the truth.”

“That's not the truth,” she said. “Not even close.”

“Why are we still discussing this?” he demanded. “You and I are done, Rin. We've been done for a long, long time, and that was your choice.”

She turned her eyes on him again and let out a soft, scoffing laugh.

“That's also not the truth,” she said. “...you and I will never be done, will we?”

For nearly half a minute they stared at one another. Heavy, awful emotions passed across an invisible tether from one the other and Squall could neither stand it nor shut it off. She got his resentment and anger, and Squall received her regret and frustration at getting herself trapped in a situation she no longer wanted to be a part of.

Well, that was her own damn fault. And she was right. They would never be done. Not now, not ever, and that was a fact that he did not want to face, no matter how true it may have been.

“I wouldn't have let you make that promise back then if I'd known...” Rinoa said. “You know that, right?”

He folded his arms over his chest and broke eye contact.

 “I would have made it anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because I loved you. That's why,” he said quietly. “Because I suddenly saw a future where I wasn't alone.”

“And I took all that away when I left.”

Squall didn't answer. He downed his drink and went back inside for another.

There was a small part of him that wanted to run away with her anyway. That remnant of days gone by was louder than logic or reason. Half of it was the bond and obligation to protect her and keep her mentally and physically sound as long as he had breath in his lungs. The other half was because after everything, he still loved her.

He stared at the wall as he sipped his drink and wondered why he still believed he could resist.

What was the point of fighting it?

He still belonged to her. And he always would.


	12. Chapter 12

Seifer lay tangled around Quistis' long, lean body in a darkened hotel room. It was a privilege, being there with her. She'd suggested meeting up with Rinoa for dinner but he'd vetoed that idea. He wanted Quistis all to himself. Selfish maybe, but their brief weekends together were never quite long enough and Seifer had never been good at sharing.

Hyne, he was pathetic. Really, really pathetic. Going to pieces over her like a starry-eyed school boy. Ironic that _school boy_ was the comparison that came to mind. He might have been hostile toward her as a teenager, but he'd been nuts about her.

Back then, he'd been an idiot kid who thought treating a girl like shit was the best way to hide the fact that he liked her. Or, maybe show her. He wasn't sure anymore. And now, he was stupidly and ridiculously in love with her and it was hard to share her with her life in Balamb.

Still giddy from the bottle-and-a-half of champagne they'd consumed, Seifer propped himself up on an elbow to look down at her. Her unbound hair spread across the pillow and her satisfied, lazy smile pushed him over the edge.

“Quit SeeD,” he said. “Marry me."

She let out a hearty laugh and shoved his shoulder.

“Funny.”

“I wasn't joking.”

“Right,” she said. “Like I'm supposed to buy that.”

Seifer frowned and brushed a fingertip over her plush, soft lips. A shudder went through him as he thought of how good those lips felt, and how he couldn't stand the idea of not getting to kiss them every single day.

“Why would I joke about something like that?”

“Come on, Seifer, you're killing the mood.”

“Quit SeeD,” he repeated, firmer this time. “ _Marry me_.”

Quistis sat up and her brows knit together as she stared back at him.

“Oh, Hyne, you _are_ serious.”

“I'm serious. Say yes.”

“I can't just quit my job and marry you,” she said, incredulous. “Are you crazy?”

“Why not?”

“Because I worked too damned hard to get where I am! I can't just walk away from that,” she said. “What do you take me for?”

He'd thought she wanted more from him, that maybe she felt the same way. Otherwise, what was the point? Just a casual weekend fuck? That was fun and all, but he wanted more.

“What do you take _me_ for?” he retorted.

“Seifer... What did you expect me to do?” she asked. “Just say yes and walk away from everything? Just move to Deling City and learn to bake, maybe pop out a few kids and settle quietly into middle age like that's what I secretly wanted all along?”

“Baking would be nice,” he said. “But no, that's not what I'm asking.”

“Are you talking about moving back to Balamb?”

“Hell no,” he said.

She sighed and got out of bed. She dragged the sheet off of him and wrapped it around herself as she retreated to the bathroom. Inside, the faucet came on and water splashed in the basin.

“I can't just walk away from everything to go be somebody's wife,” she said when she returned. “Not for you. Not for anyone.”

“Why the hell not?” he demanded.

“Because that's not me,” she said. “That's never been my aim, Seifer.”

“So I'm just a good time, then?” he asked. “A fuck buddy until you get bored?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Sure sounds like it,” he said. “You know what? Forget I said anything. I take it all back. I don't want you to quit SeeD and I don't want to marry you. Just forget it.”

He climbed out of bed and pulled on his clothes. It was stupid to have allowed himself to fall so hard or care so much. He'd known better than to expect her to actually leave Garden or say yes to his proposal. He hadn't planned on saying it out loud anyway, but the words had tumbled out of his mouth on their own.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “You're leaving?”

Seifer yanked on his boots without bothering to put his socks on first.

“I'm getting the hell out of here.”

“You're being childish. Let's talk about this.”

“Nothing to talk about,” he snapped. “You made your position on this _very_ clear. I get it, and I'm done.”

“So you're just going to leave?”

“Is there any reason for me to stay?” he asked. “Is there any reason for me to keep wasting my time? I can get sex anywhere, any day of the week. That's not why I'm here.”

Her lips parted to say something but he cut her off.

“Forget it,” he said. “You go back to Garden and have fun with your bullshit politics and your monster hunts, just don't expect me to be at your beck and call anymore.”

“Seifer -”

“You're so stupid,” he said. “You know that? You're fucking brilliant, but for some reason, you're not smart enough to see it. Even when it's right in front of you.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked. “What am I not seeing?”

“Isn't it obvious Quistis?” he asked. “You haven't figured it out yet?”

Damn it. She'd won. Seifer had been thoroughly and soundly defeated, and as he sat down on the edge of the bed, he found he didn't even care. All he wanted was her and if she knew how he felt, so be it.

“Seifer, you're not making any sense.”

He let out a bitter laugh and stood to put on his jacket.

“Yeah, you're right. Thinking someone like you might ever love someone like me doesn't make one damn bit of sense,” he said. “But don't worry about it. Forget I ever said a word.”

“...what?”

He was too drunk to drive back to Deling City. Too tired, too, but he had to get out of there before he made it worse. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he grabbed his overnight bag and headed for the door without another word. There were a thousand different ways to wound her with words, but he held them all back because he knew some things couldn't be taken back.

Drunken, poorly thought out marriage proposals, for instance.

His hand was on the doorknob when she called out his name with such desperation, he was forced to turn around.

“I... I do care about you,” she said. “This isn't just about sex. Not to me.”

“If you mean that, then figure it out,” he said. He opened the door. “See you around, Trepe.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

For a guy who wrote in all caps, Squall had a really fancy signature. Zell stared at the loops and flourishes of the signed _S.L. Loire_ on the house log for a moment before comparing it to the photocopy of the flower delivery invoice.

Upon first glance, the handwriting was nearly identical. Except whomever had signed for the roses at Squall's townhouse had made a mistake.

“Hah,” Zell said to himself. “Gotcha.”

Someone had tried to make it look like Squall was up to no good, but evidently didn't know how to spell Squall's last name. Zell hadn't caught it until now, but it was enough to prove some nefarious set-up was in progress. The question, of course, was why?

Try as he might, Zell couldn't put the puzzle pieces together. It was a lot of trouble to go to just to scare Rinoa or her husband. And it was strange to him that the person or persons responsible were smart enough to plan this huge, elaborate thing, yet they hadn't bothered to spell Squall's name right. Either they were not as smart as they thought they were, or they were cocky enough to believe no one would notice.

He looked down once more at the scrawled _S. Leonheart_ on the invoice and shook his head. If not for the misspelling, the signatures would have been close enough to cast some doubt on Squall's innocence.

It was a good forgery, just not good enough.

With a yawn, Zell tossed the pages aside and thought about calling Seifer with this update, but it was late, so instead he rewound the security tapes to the day of delivery to see if it was even possible Squall had been at his house at the time. It was tedious and boring, and Zell hated siting around for hours on end watching the house staff go about their business. On screen, people mopped floors and washed linens. The kitchen staff prepared meals. Nothing at all exciting.

Squall was visible on camera at several points throughout the day, but largely absent for much of it, and it appeared he'd spent most of his time doing interviews in the library. There was an extended period of time between 9am and noon that he wasn't visible on any camera.

The flowers had been delivered to Squall's home around 11. If he'd left the property during that time, he could have been there to receive them.

Zell focused on the gate cameras and rewound to see if Squall had left at any point during the day. Around seven, he saw Squall's work truck leave to take Lily to school and return less than an hour later. After that, the only vehicle in or out was a delivery van from a local grocer, just after noon.

Following a hunch, Zell switched to the kitchen view to see what was delivered and who received it.

Along with an assortment of groceries in produce boxes, five long, white boxes were brought in the back and immediately taken to the fridge. Curious, Zell rewound the tape and watched again. The boxes were too long and narrow to be cakes or pastries, too flimsy to contain anything heavy. He couldn't be sure, but he thought perhaps they were the type of boxes used to deliver roses. Otherwise, he hadn't a clue what kid of food might be delivered in boxes that size or shape.

Furthermore, Rinoa had not hosted any event that would require that much food at once. All live in staff, plus Rinoa and the visiting SeeDs were served three meals a day, but Rinoa was strongly against waste of any kind. The head chef ordered only enough to prepare those meals, plus whatever was needed for snacks and Rinoa's weekly charity committee meetings.

A trip back to the flower shop was due, but for now there was nothing he could do but make note of it and perhaps check the fridge to see if the boxes were still there. He continued to watch and fast-forwarded through hours of uninteresting activities.

Around 7pm, the camera abruptly went dark for almost five minutes.

How had they missed this? Zell was sure they'd been over every single recording from that day. Either they'd somehow skipped the activities in the kitchen, or the footage had been purposely erased.

He bit his lip and rewound and just to be sure, checked the connection from the DVR to the monitor. Upon replay, that five minutes remained dark before flickering back on to show an empty kitchen, just as it had before.

“It's someone on staff,” Zell muttered to himself. “Has to be.”

He got to his feet and switched the camera view back to the present, then went to the kitchens to investigate. The place was deserted at that hour, not that he expected anyone to be around. He took a look around the work space and saw nothing out of order, then opened up the big, walk-in refrigerator at the back of the room.

Inside, food was neatly arranged, meat on one side, produce on the other, and dairy on the back wall. There was nothing on the shelves that looked even remotely like the boxes he'd seen in the video. Whatever they were, the weren't here anymore and he would have bet everything he owned, they'd been removed while the camera was out of commission.

As he was about to leave, a small, rectangular bit of paper tucked under one of the racks caught his eye. He bent down to pick it up. It was a business card from the same flower shop he'd visited before. On the back of the card was a handwritten message.

_Mrs. Kilroy, we appreciate your patronage! Please let us know if something is not to your satisfaction and we will correct it immediately. Regards, Mary Lindblum._

It was signed by the store owner.

Lacey Kilroy?

 Maybe she'd been set up the way Squall had.

But, maybe not.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Rinoa pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders and held back tears as she gazed up at the sky. She'd asked Squall to be honest. She'd forgotten how blunt he could be. Even if he hadn't meant to wound her, he had.

It was her own fault for asking, and her own fault for expecting him drop everything and run after what she'd put him through. It was unreasonable and selfish to expect him to chase after her, bond or no bond. He had his own responsibilities and obligations, a life that did not include her and a child to look after.

For the first time, Rinoa thought seriously about leaving. It was no longer a thought she entertained in a moment of annoyance but a strong urge to get on a train and get out before someone else died. The money and luxuries were nice, and it was great to be able to fund the causes close to her heart, but it was only now she fully understood what she'd lost in the long run.

Balamb had become a second home in the years she'd lived in town. That tiny, two-room apartment above the flower shop had become a refuge, a safe and happy place away from the reality that she faced outside those four walls. The locals had been kind, and they had welcomed her in spite of what she was. The owner of the bookstore had given her a part-time job, even though he hadn't needed the help, but she was already there so much she might as well have worked there.

Here in Dollet, she was an outsider, no matter how involved she was. Not since boarding school had she been so shunned by her peer group. Sure, these people threw money her causes, but they were no friends of hers. At best, she was an oddity, at worst a pretender who had no business associating among the upper classes. And while the point had never been to fit in with them, the nastiness had gotten to her. Especially now, with people dying for some unknown grudge or belief or whatever it was that had started this.

What if she just ran from it all? Packed a bag for real, got on a train to Timber and never looked back? She had a small amount of savings of her own, money that did not come from Florian's pocket but residuals from her mother's music and estate. She could live on that if she needed to, and she was sure someone in Timber would help her out. Everyone in town knew her and there were very few who would turn her away.

As she sat there, she fantasized about tossing the ring on her finger out the train window as they crossed the border into Galbadia. No one would call her Noni or belittle her for who she was or what she'd done.

“Running didn't solve anything the first time around,” Squall said softly from the open door behind her.

“But I wasn't really running from anything,” she said. “I wanted to finish what I started.”

“What do you mean?”

“Timber was always the end goal,” Rinoa said. “From day one, you knew that was what I wanted. You _knew_ what it meant to me, and you knew I wouldn't be satisfied until Timber was independent. Yet, you expected me to put all that on hold so we could be together. And I stayed because I wanted to be with you, but... I made a commitment to Timber long before I met you. I couldn't just turn by back on that. Not even for you.”

When he didn't say anything, she continued.

“It's not fair for you to act like I was totally selfish for leaving.”

She didn't mean it the way it came out, but she didn't try to fix what her words implied. Squall understood cold and practical. He appreciated directness, so if it hurt him, too bad.

“You weren't willing to compromise any more than I was,” she said. “I shouldn't have left the way I did, but you knew how important it was to me. If you can't forgive me for that, then I guess I understand, but I'd like to at least have a conversation with you that doesn't end with you running away.”

She heard the ice in his glass clink but he didn't say a word.

“Running doesn't solve anything,” she echoed. “We need to talk and all you do is run away from it. You should heed your own advice.”

He sat down on the chair beside her. He faced her, but stared into his glass, the set of his shoulders defeated.

“...do you know how hard this is for me?” he asked. “Do you know how hard it is to constantly be at war with what you know is right and what you want?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I know exactly what that's like.”

“How could you?”

Hyne, he was blind. He hadn't a clue that she struggled with the same concerns he did. Though Ian had given her permission, she did not want an affair on her conscience. Even though she was furious with the man for the secrets he'd kept, she was still married to him. Yet she was spiritually and emotionally bound to Squall, still very much in love, and he dared to ask how she could possibly understand right and wrong. As if he was the only one who wanted something he couldn't have.

“You're not the only one fighting yourself,” she said. “Every time I'm in the same room with you, all I can think about is you and how stupid I was to leave. Just like you, the only thing keeping me from giving in is this ring on my finger.”

She twisted the band of her wedding ring and slipped it off to stare at the over-sized diamond. She was tempted to throw it over the rail but didn't, only because there was a chance that Ian's part in all this was less sinister than it seemed.

“I made a mistake,” she said. “Leaving the way I did was a mistake, and I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

Squall took a long swallow of his drink. He stared at the diamond as it glittered in the weak porch light.

“I'm going through the same thing you are,” she said. “But as usual, what's going on in your head is the only thing that matters to you. Your pain and suffering is all you see.”

He rattled the ice in his glass and stared down at the drink inside.

“That's not fair.”

“It's more than fair,” Rinoa said. “Because you haven't even considered my feelings, have you? What do you think it does to me when you send mixed signals? You hold my hand one minute and then act like you don't know me the next. You kiss me and then tell me to leave. And I'm just supposed to accept that this is hard for _you_?”

He pressed a hand to his eyes and set his glass on the ground.

“It was selfish to expect you to go with me,” she said, “and I'm sorry.”

They sat there for a long time with nothing to say to each other. Squall stared at his feet and Rinoa watched the stars.

“I'm not angry with you,” she said when the silence finally got to her. “It hurts that you're still so angry with me.”

“...I'm angry with myself. Not you."

She looked over at him. His hands were templed against his mouth and long stands of hair kept his face in shadow.

“Can we agree to let the past be in the past?” she asked. “Agree that we both messed up and move on?”

“I don't... Trust myself around you,” he said.

Rinoa sat up to face him.

“Whatever happens, happens.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean... at the end of all this,” he said. “We catch the bad guys, and then what? I go back home and pretend I'm okay? Do go on with our lives like we mean nothing to each other?”

“I honestly don't know,” Rinoa said. “How do stay married to someone I don't trust? Even if his reasons were honorable, he kept his past a secret. And I can't stand these people. It's never been more clear how much I don't belong here, and I can't help but wonder if running off to Timber makes more sense than even bothering to wait around and find out.”

Squall nodded slowly, though she wasn't sure if it was in agreement, or just an acknowledging her feelings on the subject.

“And besides all that, can either of us deny what we are?” she asked. “I don't even know how to walk away from you now. I don't know if I can...”

Her voice was barely a whisper, but Squall heard her.

“I feel like we need a plan,” Rinoa said. “I don't want to just sit around and wait for something to happen. I don't want someone else to have to die because of me.”

Squall righted himself and Rinoa saw him switch from walking wounded to the commander she'd once known. It was sort of miraculous that he was so at ease with making strategic plans and decisions, but when it came to matters of he heart, he always seemed to be at a loss.

The radio on his hip buzzed to life and they both jumped.

“Squall, there's a Madge Thuvadge at the gate,” Akon said. “Says he knows you.”

Squall pressed a hand to his face and shook his head. He took a deep breath before replying.

“Tall blonde guy?” Squall asked. “Scar like mine?”

“Yeah.”

“Bring him to the guest house,” Squall said.

“He's a little drunk.”

“Great,” Squall muttered. Into the radio, he said, “Just bring him.”

“Madge The Vadge?” Rinoa asked. “Do I even want to know?”

“Seifer's idea of a joke,” Squall said. “And as usual, not very funny.”

Rinoa snorted. It _was_ kind of funny, even though she didn't get the context. She could only imagine what fun the two of them working together must have been. No doubt, Seifer constantly tried to get a rise out of Squall and Squall just stared back, blank-faced and refused to laugh.

She got up and made herself another drink and tried to ignore the irritation she was picking up from Squall. Just who he was irritated with was a mystery, but she suspected it was a little of everything. Their disagreement. Seifer and his ridiculous pseudonym. Himself for letting things get to him.

Squall answered the soft knock at the door as Rinoa returned to the living room. A very intoxicated Seifer stumbled in. His eyes were bloodshot and he reeked of whiskey. If Rinoa didn't know better, it appeared Seifer had been crying, but that didn't compute. Seifer and crying didn't belong in the same sentence.

 “Fuckin' women,” Seifer muttered as he wandered inside. He turned a bitter glare on Rinoa and blinked a couple times as if to clear his vision. His bitterness turned to fear, then from fear to anger. “Women, ruinin' our lives, man. Get us by the balls and then break our hearts.”

Rinoa had never seen Seifer like this. They'd gotten drunk together a few times during that long ago summer, but never like this.

“Didn't know you had a heart to break, Almasy,” Rinoa said as she closed the door behind him.

“Why? You don't think I got it in me to care?” he spat. “I'll have you know -”

“Sit down,” Squall ordered. He guided the tall, inebriated man to the couch. “What are you doing here?”

“Women!” Seifer cried, like that explained everything. He sat and pried off his boots. “Gimmie a drink.”

“I think you've had enough,” Squall said. “Maybe you should sleep it off.”

 “Don't you tell me what to do,” Seifer growled. “Not my boss.”

“Fine,” Squall said. “I'll get you some water.”

Rinoa hid a smile as she watched Seifer struggle with his boot laces. It was pathetic to see him reduced to a sad, drunken mess. Whatever happened, Rinoa would bet it was his own fault.

“Did you have a fight with Quistis?” she asked.

“How did you know about that?”

“Observation,” Rinoa said. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

“What's the point? You'll take her side.”

“Not necessarily,” Rinoa said.

Squall returned with a glass of ice water for Seifer and a refill for himself. Seifer took the water, swallowed and scowled.

“The fuck is this?”

“Water. Drink it.”

Squall's tone said he meant business, and for some reason, Seifer obliged. Squall shot Rinoa an apologetic glance as he sat down on the coffee table to face his drunken business partner.

“Asked her to marry me and she said no,” Seifer said to no one in particular. “Like I'm not good enough for her. Like I'm just some...some...toy she can use and just throw away.”

“Wait, what?” Rinoa asked. “You asked her to _marry_ you?”

“She said _no_. Her career's more important. Can you fucking believe that?”

“Well, yeah,” Rinoa said. “I mean, we're not really close anymore but Quistis isn't the type to give everything up for a man. She never has been.”

“Psh,” Seifer said by way of argument.

“Surely, you knew that,” Rinoa said gently.

“Shouldn'a opened my big mouth.”

He leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes. The hand that held the glass of water went slack and Squall caught it before Seifer spilled it all over himself. He set the glass aside and gave Seifer a shake, but Seifer's eyes remained closed and his head rolled to the side. A second later, he was snoring.

In sleep, Seifer's face was far more boyish and innocent than Rinoa expected. The years had certainly been kind. Rinoa was willing to bet, he'd still be devastatingly handsome well past middle age and she mused at how unfair it was that men only got more attractive, while women seemed to swell and fade as they aged.

“Quistis?” Squall asked.

“Quistis,” Rinoa confirmed.

Squall gave a soft snort and shook his head. He hadn't known.

“That explains... A lot,” Squall said.

Squall took a long swallow of his drink as he digested the news, his eyes on Seifer with what might have been respect.

“Tomorrow, I'll get you set up to access the safe in the library,” Squall said. “If something goes wrong, I want you to lock yourself inside and wait for me. If Lily's here, you take her with you. Understand?”

“That's it?” Rinoa asked. “That's your plan? Lock me in the safe?”

“Worst case scenario,” Squall said. “Otherwise, I want you to be armed at all times. That .40 caliber pistol you practiced with needs to be on your person 24-7.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely,” Squall said.

“Wow...” Rinoa said. “How bad do you think this is going to get?”

“I don't know,” Squall said. “But, after everything Emelda told us, I'm not taking chances.”

“Okay,” Rinoa agreed. “I don't like it, but... Okay.”

On the couch, Seifer slumped over onto the arm rest, snoring loudly with one hand tucked under his chin. They both looked at him. Squall, with irritation, Rinoa with a smile.

“What's on your social schedule this week?” Squall asked.

“Nothing much for the early part,” Rinoa said. “A few volunteer things, but I'm hosting a costume ball on Friday. Most of my week will be spent planning and setting up for that.”

“Will your husband be attending?”

“I have no idea,” she said. “I'm inclined to say no, since he hasn't called me back.”

Squall nodded. “I'll be there regardless, but if he doesn't return for the event, I'll escort you. In the meantime, I'm going to have you and Zell do a little bit of training.”

“Training?”

“Magic,” Squall said. “I'm no longer junctioned, but Zell is. From what I remember, you were deadly when you needed to be.”

“Yeah, I guess I was,” she murmured. “But only because I didn't have another choice.”

“Better to be prepared,” he said. “Hopefully, you won't need to use it.”

“What about you?” she asked. “Are you going to junction?”

Squall blanched and shook his head. “Too much of a risk.”

“Risk of what?” she asked. “Forgetting?”

His eyes were far away but he nodded slowly and set his drink aside.

If he was going to be her escort, he would need to be in costume. A sudden flash of inspiration struck her. Emelda had suggested that she remind these people who she was and what she was capable of. What better way to do that than show off a little, with her Knight at her side?

“Do you still have your old jacket?” she asked. “The one with the fur collar?”

“Packed up somewhere at the house,” he said. “Why?”

“I have an idea.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Squall bedded down on the floor of Lily's room, in spite of Rinoa's protest that she didn't mind sleeping on the floor. Squall insisted she take his room, mostly because he was paranoid about the entryways and irrationally paranoid about getting Lily involved in this. He made camp between the bed and the patio door, and slept fitfully. Eventually, he stopped trying and lay awake with thoughts of Rinoa to keep him company.

She was right. He hadn't even considered what she must have been going through, and he'd never really noticed she'd put Timber aside for him. Now that he looked back on it, she'd been torn between her obligations to the town and her desire to stay with him. Timber was always her primary ambition, and he'd been a distraction, rather than an asset to her cause.

He'd accused her of selfishness, but he'd been selfish too. Selfish to expect her to forget Timber. Selfish for not understanding just how much it meant to her. He'd thought it just a passing thing, something she'd get bored of after a while when she found there was little she could do in the long run. He had greatly underestimated the part of her that was willing to move heaven and hell to get what she wanted. He had stupidly believed that her love for him outweighed her commitment to the town, and he'd been wrong.

In hindsight, he should have known that nothing would stop her from making sure Timber was free. She'd been willing to hijack a moving train, kidnap and even murder a dictator-slash-president, for Hyne's sake. She'd been willing to give her life for the cause. Go to prison if she was caught. And now he felt stupid for thinking that she might ever give up that fight simply because she was in love.

 The fight in her had been one of the things that had drawn him in the first place. She'd _believed_ in something. She couldn't abide the violence and oppression Galbadia had inflicted on the town she'd come to love and she'd been willing to fight and die for freedom. It wasn't about Squall, nor herself, but about something bigger, and he had selfishly believed that he was more important than finishing what she'd started.

Had he realized that it wasn't a lack of love but about keeping a promise, he would have understood. Maybe, he would have gone with her, but he hadn't been able to see past his own selfishness to fully understand her position. Everything else in his life, he could look objectively on the facts and not allow emotion to rule his decision, but when his heart was at stake, all he saw was his own pain and reacted accordingly. He'd thought she'd left because she didn't love him enough to stay. Timber had been the goal from the beginning, so why had he expected anything different in the end?

It was a hard truth to face after so many years of fighting to keep his head above water. It was hard to accept that he was just as much to blame as she was. He'd accused her of giving up, but she'd never given up on the one thing she'd wanted most. He'd just been too blind to see it at the time.

This realization didn't make the situation any easier to handle. Pushing her away was easier when he was angry. It was easier to keep his distance.

He woke Lily for school without an issue, and ignored her giggles of delight over Seifer passed out on the couch, with his face mashed into the cushions. She gave him a few pokes in the shoulder to wake him, but he didn't budge. She poked him harder and he mumbled something about women before rolling over to bury his face in his elbow.

Squall shook his head at the pathetic sight his partner made and wondered about Quistis.

Seifer had said his current blonde was special. Squall should have figured out that it was someone he knew by the way Seifer failed to give details. Typically, Squall heard more than he ever wanted to about Seifer's sex life and the fact that Seifer hadn't shared should have told him it was a big deal.

Her rejection must have really wrecked Seifer. Seifer liked to drink, but it wasn't often he drank so much he wound up raving, ranting and falling down drunk. And he never got shitfaced over a woman. Easy come, easy go was Seifer's motto when it came to the ladies.

Ironic that Quistis had been the one that had broken Seifer's streak of disposable, interchangeable blondes he had no interest in keeping around for long. Ironic, that of all of them, _Quistis_ was the one he wanted to marry.

By the time Squall returned from dropping Lily off, Rinoa had gotten Seifer up and was busy plying him with coffee, toast and pain killers to ease his hangover.

“Fffffuck,” Seifer muttered over his plate. “Goddamn head...”

Squall poured himself some coffee and took a seat across from Seifer. He studied his partner and too kin in the slump of the man's shoulders and the paleness in his cheeks.

“You alive yet?” Squall asked.

“Alive, but I feel like I'm gonna die,” Seifer said.

“Stuff to run by you when you're head's on straight.”

“Goddamn women,” Seifer muttered.

The corner of Squall's mouth twitched up into an almost-smile and he shook his head at the pathetic mess in front of him.

“Quistis?”

“Don't ever say that name again if you know what's good for you.”

Squall held up his hands and went about his business, leaving Seifer to his hangover recovery. When he was ready, he took Rinoa to the library, disabled the safe console and got her set up with a password and fingerprint ID.

“You know, I've only been in here once,” she said. She lifted the sheet on a large painting and studied it. Next, her fingers grazed over a fine vase of Trabian porcelain. “All this stuff... What's the point if nobody sees it?”

“I assume everything in here is exceptionally valuable,” Squall said. “Leaving it out in the open would invite theft.”

“Yeah, I get that, but what's the point?” she asked. “Nothing has value unless someone's around to appreciate it.”

Squall cut his eyes at her. He didn't know why it bothered him, but the way she said it made him uneasy.

“So, if something happens, I lock myself in here,” she said to herself. “With all these useless trophies.”

 “You're what they want,” Squall reminded her. “This is the safest place in the house.”

Her eyes were sad as she eyed a painting of turn-of-the-century Dollet in a huge, gilded frame. Squall was no expert on art, but even he recognized the signature. Lily probably would have flipped to see a T.D. Howell original up close, and Squall knew that a work like this was so rare it was considered priceless.

“What a waste,” Rinoa said. “Something like this belongs in a museum for everyone to see. Not hidden away like this.”

Squall went to the smaller safe at the back and opened it to retrieve the pistol he'd mentioned. He filled two magazines with rounds, loaded one into the weapon but didn't insert it fully and turned back to her.

“This has no safety,” he reminded her. “If you need to use it, click the magazine into place, draw back the slide, aim, fire. Understand?”

“So I could accidentally shoot myself in the foot?”

“You could, but you won't, so long as you're careful,” he said. “I doubt you'll need to use it.”

“And if I do?”

“Then make sure you aim for the heart.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

Squall figured Seifer would head back to Deling City as soon as he was able, after they'd covered their respective parts of the investigation, but he stayed. The man was sullen and cranky, and he jumped every time his phone rang, only to dismiss the call with a scowl and a muttered swear or two. By mid-week, Squall's patience had worn thin.

“Almasy, go home,” Squall said. “Bank job, remember?”

“Fujin's got it.”

“There's an office to run.”

“You need me here more,” Seifer said. “Might be fun to run security detail. See what kind of shit we can stir up.”

That was exactly why Squall didn't want Seifer around. He wasn't looking to stir anything up, just catch whoever was tormenting Rinoa. Seifer was of more use trying to figure out what was going on with Caraway, Delacroix and his assistant. The man was spoiling for a fight, and he was going to get one if he didn't make like a tree soon.

Seifer's phone rang again and he made a face, lifted it as if he was about to toss it across the room but stopped himself. His face screwed up as he looked at the number on the display.

“Huh,” he said. “About freakin' time.”

Evidently, it was not Quistis this time.

Squall sorted through the applications on his desk and dropped all but two in the reject pile while Seifer went off to take the call. Squall was way behind on hiring his replacement, and he was going to have to get Rinoa freed up for a couple of hours in the morning so they could do the final interviews. Whichever she liked best was the one he'd offer the position to. Both were men Squall knew from previous jobs. One was a former SeeD, the other had worked security detail for Rinoa's father. Both were trustworthy as far as Squall was concerned, and both would do a fine job. Rinoa was past caring, but Squall had been instructed to get her input and he planned to do exactly that.

Lily burst into the office, the cordless phone from the guest house in her hand. She thrust it at him and grinned.

“It's Jake's mom. She wants to talk to you.”

Squall might have smiled back, but he already knew the call concerned a pending pizza date.

With a boy.

A boy he automatically disliked because of said pizza date.

That wasn't fair. For all he knew, this Jake kid was all right and just wanted to be Lily's friend. In fact, that was the most likely scenario, since they were way too young to even think about dating for real, but it didn't quiet the paternal voice in his head that screamed Jake had less than honorable intentions with his niece.

_Way to be overprotective and paranoid, Leonhart._

And he definitely did not want to think about the day when Lily wanted to date for real. He actually pitied the imaginary boy that tried to win Lily's heart.

“Leonhart,” he barked into the phone.

“Hi there,” a perky voice said on the other end. “My name's Elise. I'm Jake's mom?”

“Leo,” he said. “What can I do for you, Elise?”

“Jake and I usually go out for pizza on Thursdays, and we were wondering if you and Lily might join us?” she asked. “He doesn't have many friends, so... Well, we would really love it if the two of you came."

Squall hadn't expected an invitation and he didn't know what to say. He was busy. He had things to do, a security detail to prepare, a system check on the cameras and alarms...

“I know it's last minute, but Jake's really looking forward to it,” the woman continued when Squall didn't respond. “Please say yes. I don't mean to beg, but Jake doesn't look forward to much, and he's so fond of Lily.”

“They've known each other a week.”

“I know! It's crazy, right?” Elise said. “But Jake swears she's his best friend.”

It was nice to hear Lily had a friend. Even if that friend was a _boy_ who wanted to take her out for pizza.

“Listen, I'm totally going to guilt trip you until you say yes,” she said. “Jake's had a really rough year. It would make his day if you guys came.”

Squall didn't want to say yes. He was already overbooked. Only Lily's hopeful eyes kept him from saying no. She needed friends, and Squall's first priority, over and above everything else was Lily's happiness.

“Come to dinner with us?” Elise asked. “My treat? Please?”

He had promised he would never be too busy for her, and he planned to stick to that. The timing couldn't be worse, though. He was booked solid Thursday in preparation for the ball. It wasn't optional if he wanted to ensure Rinoa's safety and put an end to this mess so they could go home.

“This week's no good for me,” he said. “How about next week?”

“Next week would work,” Elise said. “We go every Thursday.”

“Great,” Squall said. “I'll be in touch.”

“YES!” Lily cried.

As soon as Squall hung up the phone, Lily flung herself into his lap and threw her arms around his neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried as she hugged him tight.

“You really like this kid?” he asked.

“He's sort of a dork, but we like the same stuff and he's really talented and funny and,” she shrugged with one shoulder, “I like talking to him.”

Squall smoothed down her hair and smiled.

“A dork, huh?”

“Don't tell him I said that.”

“It'll be the first thing out of my mouth,” Squall promised.

Lily gave him a playful slap on the arm and sat back, grinning.

“His mom's single.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “And pretty.”

“Lily.”

“What?” she asked innocently, but there was a sparkle in her eye that betrayed her intentions.

“Please tell me you're not trying to play matchmaker.”

“Just give it a shot, okay?” she said. “She's nice.”

“And I'm perfectly capable of...” he stopped talking and sighed. He didn't want to discuss his relationship status with Lily. Nor did he want to lecture when she had good intentions. Even if those good intentions were way, way off base. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“More forced child labor?”

“Ha-ha,” he said. “Poor Lily. Forced to carry around a tool bag for three days straight.”

“It was heavy.”

He tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled, but it hurt that Ellone would never get to see her grow up.

“You're a pretty good kid, you know that?”

Lily grinned back at him and planted a kiss on his cheek, then climbed out of his lap.

“I know,” she said. “You're not so bad yourself. Most of the time.”

Squall snorted. At least he didn't suck anymore. That was progress.

“Alright cupid, go do your homework,” he said. “I'll be back in a bit.”

“Yes, Sir, Commander Leonhart, Sir!” she said. She gave a sloppy mock salute, then dissolved into laughter as she dashed out of the office.

Hyne, there was so much of Ellone in her. Not just in appearance but in her actions and her spirit. Her sense of humor was the same, and she got the same gleam in her eye when she was up to something.

Then he remembered what Lily was up to and he dropped his forehead into his palms. He'd been not-so-subtly set up by a nine-year-old. And he'd allowed it. He was willing to bet her little friend was in on it, too. Lily was probably the mastermind, but he could picture her conspiring with this kid to set up their sad, lonely authority figures in hopes of making a match. It was sweet, but also brought a whole new level of awkwardness to an already awkward situation.

“What's wrong with you?” Seifer asked as he returned to find Squall head in hand.

“Nothing,” he lied. “Clear things up with Quistis?”

“Hell no,” he said. “That was my contact in Deling City. Had some rather interesting news to share.”

“Yeah?”

Seifer flopped into the free chair at the desk and propped his feet up, looking smug.

“I've got dirt. A lot of it.”

“Spit it out,” Squall said, not in the mood for Seifer's games.

“Get Rin in here. She needs to hear this.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Rinoa was confused by why Seifer was still around, skulking about the property with a hangdog look on his face. He refused to talk about Quistis, and grew agitated when Rinoa brought it up. By mid-week, Rinoa decided maybe a phone call was in order.

“Trepe.”

“Did I call at a bad time?” Rinoa asked.

“Rinoa, what can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to call and check in with you,” she said.

“That's sweet of you,” Quistis replied

Her tone implied she didn't have time or patience for a conversation.

“You sound busy. Should I call back later?”

“Actually, I'm not busy at all,” Quistis said. “I'm sorry. I had a bad weekend and I'm... Brooding.”

“Seifer?”

There was a stunned silence on the other end.

“I figured that out at dinner with you guys,” Rinoa admitted when Quistis didn't confirm or deny. “Are you okay?”

“How much do you know?”

“Enough to know you're both upset.”

“How is he?”

“Cranky,” Rinoa said. “Mutters under his breath a lot.”

“He's there?”

“He is,” Rinoa said. “Helping Squall. I think."

“I wish he'd just call me back,” Quistis said. “I didn't want it to end like that.”

“Who says it has to end?” Rinoa asked. “I'm sure there's some way the two of you can work it out.”

“I'm not sure how,” Quistis said. “If he wants to be a pig-headed idiot, there's nothing I can do to change his mind.”

Seifer was a pig-headed idiot, but once he cooled down he would change his mind. He'd gotten his feelings hurt. He would get over it.

“Well, if you're free, I'm having a ball on Friday. I know it's short notice, but you're welcome to come. Maybe the two of you could find a moment to talk?”

“I honestly don't think he'd even look at me,” Quistis said. “But, thank you for the invitation. I'll consider it.”

“I've got plenty of room, and you're always welcome, okay?” she said. “Just let me know.”

“Thank you,” Quistis said sincerely. “I appreciate that.”

“Any time, Quistis,” Rinoa said. “I mean it. You can call me anytime.”

Rinoa hung up the phone and returned her attention to the menu finalization for the ball, only to be interrupted by Zell. He was grim-faced as he stepped into the room, his brow knitted together and his posture stiff.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“You're needed in the control room,” Zell said. “Pronto.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Don't know. Seifer has news.”

Zell escorted her to the control room, and when they entered the small office, Squall and Seifer were already there. The small room was cramped and the only place to sit was on the desk. Anxiously, she perched next to Zell.

“So I had a guy I know do some digging,” Seifer said. “Turns out, Lorraine Delong isn't just your husband's assistant.”

Rinoa was acquainted with the woman, but not well. Lorraine had worked for Ian for years before she'd married Barry Delong, a cousin of Miranda's husband, Jack. Lorraine was all business, no-nonsense, good at her job, and liked fine red wine.

“What is she?” Rinoa asked.

“She's Danielle Wilkins' older sister,” Seifer said.

“What?” Rinoa and Squall asked at the same time.

If this was true, Rinoa wanted to speak to the woman about her sister, Ian, and all the events that had led up to the accident. She doubted Lorraine would talk, but it was worth a shot. If she'd loved her sister as much as Emelda said she did, Lorraine wouldn't be forthcoming with information because it hurt to talk about. Or, maybe because she'd been involved somehow.

“Yeah, but that's not the craziest part,” Seifer said.

“Spit it out, Almasy,” Zell said irritably.

“She was involved with your father,” Seifer said.

“What do you mean involved?” Rinoa asked. “He had an affair?”

“A pretty hot and heavy one, so I'm told,” Seifer said.

“Okay, you're going to have to start from the beginning,” Rinoa said. “Tell me all of it.”

Seifer told the story of pretty, young Lorraine Wilkins who had moved to Deling City to escape the poverty of her hometown of Timber. She'd worked at the bar in the Galbadia Hotel at night and waited tables at a cafe down the street three days a week to make ends meet. If she'd thought she was going to have an easy time in the big city, she learned quick that there was little opportunity for a young, uneducated woman to make her fortune. When she was twenty, she met General Fury Caraway during a shift at the bar. The two hit it off and it had led to a brief, two month fling that resulted in Lorraine getting pregnant with Caraway's child. Shortly thereafter, Caraway ended the relationship.

“What?” Rinoa asked, breathless at the thought of what that meant. “When? Why don't I know about this?”

“The kid would be about nineteen now,” Seifer said. “And you don't know about it because your father flat-out denied it.”

She blinked at him as she tried to process this information. She might have a half-sibling?

“Denied it?”

“Acted like he'd never met her,” Seifer said. “Turned her away every time she tried to talk to him, and straight up denied there had been anything between them. Told people she was crazy and only after his money.”

In Deling City, and especially among Caraway's circle, affairs were fine so long as they were discreet and didn't result in unwanted pregnancies. At the time, it would have been a scandal that would have ruined his career unless he'd married her, but men like her father didn't marry the help.

“Brother or sister?” she asked.

“Brother,” Seifer said. “She put the kid up for adoption. Records are sealed, but I'm looking for a way around that. To find out where he ended up. I don't have a name to go on, so that complicates things.”

As a child, Rinoa had daydreamed about having a sibling. She'd fantasized about playing dress up and reading books together and coming up with creative ways to prank the housekeeper. Her childhood had been lonely. A sibling might have provided her the anchor she'd needed growing up, and maybe, she wouldn't have been so lost as a teenager if there had been someone at home she could identify with.

“So, this was right around the time that Danielle moved to the city,” Squall said, doing the math. “You would have been about eleven.”

“Is this for real?” she wondered aloud. “I mean, really?”

Seifer pulled out a photo of Lorraine leaving her father's house, a smug, satisfied smile on her face and a large envelope in her hand. Rinoa studied it, took in Lorraine's features and tried to picture what that child might look like.

“Does Ian know?”

“I suspect he does,” Seifer said.

He offered her a second photo. This one was of Lorraine and Ian in front of the Delacroix Industries offices. The envelope was in Ian's lap.

If any of this was true, why hadn't Ian told her? Why had he never mentioned a word about it? He knew her well enough to know she would want the truth.

Her father's reluctance to come to her events or celebrate holidays when Ian was present made total sense now. Caraway knew that Ian knew. She was sure of it.

She was so sick of the lies and secrets. She hated being uninformed about the things going on around her. Knowing about Danielle beforehand might have informed her decisions now. It would have given her a heads-up that she wasn't necessarily safe. She would have known the signs ahead of time and not be caught off guard by the attacks and harassment.

And a brother or sister? That was huge. If it was real, she would never forgive her father for denying both her and her brother the chance to know one another. She would never forgive Ian for keeping it a secret. It was so _unfair_.

“Is this a sure thing?” Rinoa asked. “Any chance there was someone else?”

“There could have been, but the kid is definitely your father's,” Seifer said.

“How do you know?” Rinoa demanded. “How we know this, for sure?”

“Because that envelope,” Seifer said, pointing to the photos, “contained irrefutable proof. DNA doesn't lie.”

“She had a test done?” Rinoa asked. “How? If she gave the baby up, then how did she have something to compare it to?”

“Well, I guess she found the kid,” Seifer said. “Or he found her.”

She blinked back angry tears as she looked at Seifer. For a second, she hated him for dumping all this on her, but that wasn't his fault.

“So how does this tie in with everything else?” she asked.

“Don't know,” he said. “It might be completely unrelated. Maybe I happened to follow her on the right day.”

“Why were you following her in the first place?” Rinoa asked.

He tossed a third photo across the desk. In it, Ian and Lorraine stood in front of an apartment building.

“I was following your husband,” Seifer said. “He meets with Lorraine there every day around noon.”

“You mean he's having an affair?” she asked.

“Well, I can't think of another reason a man would meet his secretary every day in an apartment he doesn't use otherwise, unless it was for a little afternoon delight,” Seifer said.

“If so, it can't be physical,” Rinoa said. “Not for her. Not for him.”

“There are plenty of things he could do to get her off,” Seifer pointed out. “He might not be able to, but his hands aren't broken.”

Rinoa blushed and shook her head. How did she explain this to him?

“I get that, but...” she said and pressed her hands to her eyes. “He... won't. _Wouldn't._ Whatever.”  
  
“Why's that?” Seifer asked.

It had been a tough conversation to have with Ian, and it was even tougher to explain. She didn't expect a room full of healthy, non-disabled men to understand Ian's reasons. She didn't like discussing her sex life, or lack thereof, and she disliked having to justify Ian's side of it even more.

“He says he remembers what it feels like...” she said. “And it's too frustrating, you know, be intimate, wanting something he can't ever feel again... Emotionally, it hurts too much...”

“So he never...” Seifer said. “He doesn't... Ever?”

“No,” Rinoa said, cutting him off before he could say anything scandalous. “We don't.”

“That's really fucking selfish,” Seifer spat out. “If I were in his place, I'd make damn sure my woman was taken care of, one way or another.”

Rinoa put her hands in her face again

“I knew before I married him,” she said quietly. “He was honest about it. Since then, he's never offered, and I've never asked.”

“Shit,” Seifer said. “Sorry. Sucks.”

He couldn't begin to understand how much it sucked. Or how often she thought about it, or even how often it wasn't Ian she thought of when her mind wandered.

None of them would look at her. Zell kept his eyes cast to the side, Squall's were on the floor and Seifer stared contemplatively at the photo of Lorraine and Florian.

“I guess it would suck to want it, but not be able to,” Seifer admitted. “Still, I say it's damn selfish.”

“Our relationship was never about that,” Rinoa said. “It's emotional, not physical.”

The way Seifer looked at her made it clear he didn't understand.

“You're telling me, you never wanted that from him?” Seifer asked.

“No,” she said. “And... _yes_ , but it would be really unfair and cruel to expect it after he explicitly told me it was too frustrating for him. And what's the point if it can't be reciprocal? That's not my idea of... fun.”

Rinoa's cheeks burned as Seifer's grin widened.

“So how do you...?”

“None of your businesses,” Squall cut in. “Can we get back on track?”

Rinoa couldn't look at any of them. It was too embarrassing and none of it had any real bearing on the investigation. If for some reason Ian was able to share a physical relationship with Lorraine, so what? Unless the two had devised some plot to get rid of her so they could be together, it wasn't important.

That told Rinoa all she needed to know about her true feelings for Ian. He could cheat if he wanted to, but lies? No. And it dawned on her that maybe, Ian's reasons for not being physical had more to do with Danielle than anything else.

“What if it's something else?” Seifer wondered aloud, flicking a fingernail against the photo. “Like, some skull and crossbones type secret society bullshit.”

“Emelda Fonatine did say there were rumors about Delacroix getting involved with some cult,” Squall said. “Not to mention, Mrs. Delacroix Senior suspected Lorraine killed Danielle.”

“Maybe they're all in on it,” Seifer said. “Chicken-face, you get anything good on Kilroy?”

“One more time, Almasy,” Zell said. He lifted a fist and ground it against his palm. “See what happens.”

Rinoa couldn't listen to another word. It was too much. The speculation, the secrets, the lies, the bickering - it had all become more than she could handle. The room was stuffy and hot, and there were too many things in her head all at once.

“I need some air,” she said as she got to her feet.

She burst out of the control room and into the night, half-jogged down the sidewalk toward the cliffs. Someone followed, but she didn't look to see who. The cadence of his steps were as familiar to her as the sound of her own heartbeat.

She descended the stone steps to the beach as fast as her feet would safely carry her and when she reached the bottom, a sharp, cold breeze cut across her face. It was pitch black and the night sky was filled with stars, but there was no moon to brighten her path. Recklessly, she trudged across the beach and tripped over hidden rocks twice, but continued on, heedless of anything but escape.

She climbed up on a low, flat rock at the end of the beach and wrapped her arms around her knees to stare out at the sea.

She had a brother.

It was so unfair her father had allowed the boy to grow up without his family. The least he could have done was provide for Lorraine and her son.

Squall climbed up on the rock beside her and sat a respectable distance away.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “I'm not okay.”

He moved to her side and slid an arm around her shoulders. His touch calmed her and she leaned into it, accepting his unspoken offer of comfort.

“He met her at the same place he met my mother,” she said. “The same place.”

“Does that matter?” Squall asked.

“I don't know... Maybe.”

“I'm sorry you had to find out this way,” he said.

Rinoa was sorry too. Sorry that her whole life was half a lie. Sorry that ex-boyfriends were more honest than her husband or her family.

“When all this is over, I'm going to find out where he is,” she said. “My father may be an irresponsible prick, but I'll be damned if I am one too.”

She pushed wind-tangled strands of hair from her face and took a breath of salty ocean air.

“I don't even know his name or what he looks like,” she said. “Why didn't Ian tell me? I mean, the deeper this thing gets, the more... _lies_ there are.”

“I wouldn't call it a lie,” Squall said. “Just not the whole truth.”

“Same thing,” Rinoa said firmly. “Omitting the truth is no better than lying to my face.”

Squall lifted his hand from her shoulders to fold his arms over his knees. He looked over at her, uncharacteristically unsympathetic as he rested his chin against his arms.

“I know you're upset right now, but let's try to focus on the plan for Friday,” he said. “We'll sort through the rest of this once it's all over.”

He'd said _we_ , as though he planned to stick around after this nightmare was finished. Maybe, it was only a slip of the tongue, something he'd said by mistake. She didn't dare get her hopes up or believe it was anything more than a figure of speech, but it was nice thought. That maybe he'd be there when this was all over.

She hummed an agreement and forced her mind to a take a different path. Brooding would do nothing but encourage her reckless and impulsive side to come out, and her impulsive side made bad decisions. She couldn't afford that anymore. Bad decisions were what had gotten her here in the first place.

Her youthful self had been a gambler. Not in the sense that she'd ever bet a fortune on cards, but her actions had reflected something of a gambler's spirit, a willingness to take a risk in spite of unfavorable odds. Bet everything on a weak hand and take a chance no one would call her bluff. Go all-in on a plan constructed in five minutes on the dirty floor of a train car.

Squall laughed quietly as he picked up on her thoughts.

“You would have been a lousy card player.”

Rinoa cast her eyes sideways but smiled back.

“I know. Too many tells,” she said. “I've never been good at hiding it. But... Sometimes you have to play the odds. Even when they're a million to one.”

“You were never afraid to take a chance,” he said. “To your own detriment most of the time.”

“I guess thinking things through was never my forte,” she said.

“You think?” Squall asked. “You were impossible. Reckless. Dangerous. Impulsive. I was sure you were going to get us killed.”

Rinoa let out a small laugh, thinking of how many times she almost _did_ get them killed.

“You drove me nuts,” he said. “I couldn't figure you out.”

“You were no picnic either. You and your blind obedience and your Garden Codes. Yelling at me in front of everyone...”

“I distinctly remember you screaming back at me.”

“That's because you were being a great big meany,” she chided. “Anyway, my whole idea of SeeD and what it was came from what Seifer told me about it. He led me to believe that all of you were like him. Little did I know, he was the exception, not the rule.”

Squall snorted at that and his lips curved into a sarcastic smile directed at the horizon.

“He's still an exception. To every rule ever made.”

“But you respect him for that reason,” Rinoa said.

“...most of the time.”

There was a lull in the conversation and Rinoa watched the surf for a while before she spoke again. Foamy waves swept over the coarse sand as the tide rolled in, and a chill hung on the edges of the breeze.

“Still planning on that hair cut?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“I kind of like the long hair,” she admitted. “And the scruff.”

“...hmm.”

Rinoa toyed with a strand that had fallen loose from his ponytail. He swiped her hand away and gently placed it back in her lap.

“Ready to go back?” he asked.

“I need a few more minutes,” she said.

He stayed put, game to stick around. They sat in silence, and it struck her that it was the kind of silence they used to enjoy back when she'd had the little apartment above the flower shop in Balamb.

She thought about how easy it had been to fall into a routine with him, spending evenings with a book, her head in his lap while he read over contracts and paperwork. There had been no need to fill every second with words or actions. Just being there together was enough.

That's what it felt like now. Just the two of them, enjoying the view and a comfortable silence, just like the old days.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So the boxes in that video are the same as the ones the florist uses to deliver long stemmed roses,” Zell said. “Exact same thing.”

“Well, now we know how they got here,” Squall said. He drummed his fingers against the desk. “What else?”

Zell cleared his throat and began to pace the room.

“What?” Squall asked.

“I think you're being framed."

Zell slid a document across the desk and Squall took it. It appeared to be a delivery invoice.

“Check out the signature.”

The scrawl at the bottom was very similar to his own. It was close enough that if he'd only glanced at it, he would have thought it was his.

“I didn't sign for this,” he said.

“I know. They spelled your name wrong,” Zell said. “But the guy that delivered them described someone that looked like you. And they were delivered to your home.”

The roses been delivered to his townhouse?

“To the door or just the driveway?”

“The door,” Zell said.

Squall looked at the time and date. He could not have been there to receive them. He'd been in the middle of an interview in the library at the time.

Someone had gone into his home and had pretended to be him. Someone had been _in_ his house.

The invasion of his privacy bothered him more than the impersonation. It could be proved that it wasn't him, but the idea that someone had been in his home, without his consent, unnerved him.

“I went back and looked at all the poetry stuff,” Zell said. “All caps. Looks a lot like your handwriting.”

Zell tossed a sample of Squall's handwriting from notes next to the photo of the printed poems. The similarity was striking. They'd managed to copy the slight lean to the left that tended to happen when he wrote something quickly. Squall hadn't even noticed until Zell pointed it out.

“Why?” Squall asked.

“I don't know,” Zell said. “It's all circumstantial at this point, and there's no way you could have been at the house to receive the delivery, but it does start to look fishy when you put all the pieces together.”

“Not really,” Squall said.

“It does if you add Seifer into the mix,” Zell said. “You couldn't have killed the Ironclad guys, but he could have. He was in Deling City at the time. If there's anyone in the world who could have handled those two by themselves and not leave behind evidence, it's Seifer. If the two of you were working together...”

If Seifer was a factor in this, then it was possible it _could_ look like they'd teamed up. On the surface, anyway.

“There's a flaw in that logic,” Squall said. “No motive.”

“Sure there is,” Zell said. “Jealousy.”

“Not after this long,” Squall said. “Doesn't make sense.”

“None of this makes sense, to be honest with you,” Zell said. “But if you lay it all out, keeping in mind Rinoa's past relationship with both of you, plus the reason you quit SeeD, and how all this coincides with you being here in the first place, it looks really bad.”

Zell was right, but a lot of the circumstantial evidence could be easily refuted by camera footage and witness verification. That wouldn't prevent the authorities from investigating him, his motives and his state of mind. If they looked into it, they'd find his history wasn't as solid as it seemed. Though his departure from Garden was classified, enough people had witnessed his downfall to get a picture of just how unstable he'd been before he quit. If the local investigators delved into that, they would know about the excessive GF use and the breakdown that followed.

He didn't like thinking about the strange, paranoid madness that had gotten a stranglehold on him and refused to let up. He barely remembered it and what he did remember was hazy. All he had left of it were flashes of violent panic as he'd lashed out at Irvine and Xu, of overturning furniture, and of fighting off, and then hiding from imaginary monsters.

Having used too many GF's for too long had not only erased Rinoa, but had an unintended side effect of slowly eroding away _everything_ over time. The only things left behind were the basest of instincts and a severe paranoia that turned familiar faces into enemies.

He couldn't remember what had made him snap, but for a few hours, he had operated on pure fight or flight instinct. At first, he fought when they'd tried to restrain him. When cornered, he fled to the dark refuge of a closet. He had hidden under uniform jackets and spare linens until Zell and Irvine dragged him out, cowering and shaking and sobbing like a child.

It had taken days to feel normal again. Once he'd been unjunctioned, the paranoia went away, but faces and names escaped him for weeks. One of the few things he could recall with any clarity was his hair-trigger temper. The smallest of things would set him off. The sound of the phone ringing on his secretary's desk. Being interrupted in the middle of something. Xu disagreeing with a budget he'd approved.

Quistis made him go see a psychologist, and Zell was posted outside his office door more often than not, being the only one who could have strong-armed him into behaving without wounding him too badly. In less than a week, he had unraveled his entire reputation.

Quitting had seemed the best possible solution for everyone involved. He would rather resign than make a bad decision that got someone killed or freak out and kill a friend in his panic.

It was something none of them talked about. Ever. Squall never allowed himself to even think about it, but he'd come apart at the seams and everyone knew it. He'd buried it as best as he could, along with all the other things he preferred not to remember and had moved on, rebuilding himself a little at a time, leaving out everything but the essentials.

“It was an isolated incident, man,” Zell said. His face was a picture of sympathy, as though remembering how bent Squall's mind had been at the time. “Could have happened to any of us. Sorry I brought it up.”

Squall dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

“I did it to myself and you know it. Anyway, if it comes up, I'll deal with it. And right now, I'd rather focus on how to stop this.”

“What are the plans for Friday?” Zell asked.

“You'll be on cameras. I'm installing eight temporary feeds in the ballroom and four more on the doors so every angle will be covered with multiple views. And since Seifer has apparently moved in, he'll work the event,” Squall said. “Akon will handle the front gate, Damius will cover the grounds.

“What's Almasy's deal, anyway?” Zell asked. “Why's he still here?”

“I can't get him to go home.”

“Screw you guys, I do what I want,” Zell said.

“Exactly.”

“We're not going to have to babysit him, are we?” Zell asked. “He's not gonna pull some stunt or try to be a vigilante hero or anything, is he?”

“I will personally put a bullet in his head,” Squall promised.

Squall's phone rang and he sat up abruptly as he saw the the ID.

“I gotta take this,” he told Zell. Into the phone, “Loire.”

“I'm sorry I haven't returned your calls,” Florian Delacroix said. “I've been booked solid the last few days.”

“Have you spoken to Rinoa yet?”

“I wanted to check in with you first.”

Why?

Why was what Squall had to say more important than reassuring or comforting his wife at a time like this? That part didn't add up. Even if they were only friends and this was only a mutually beneficial arrangement, if he cared about her at all, he should have at least picked up the phone if he couldn't come home.

Squall didn't understand the man's reasons or motives at all. What was he trying to accomplish? Was he just staying out of Squall's way because he knew there was little he could do to protect her? Did he really not care? Or was there some greater scheme Squall had not been let in on?

Squall had so many questions, he didn't know where to start. He cleared his throat and sifted through the notes in front of him, looking for some line of questioning that made sense.

“What can I help you with?” the man asked.

“Rinoa had a long chat with Emelda Fontaine,” Squall said. “About Danielle.”

There was a long silence on the other end. So long, in fact, Squall thought he'd been hung up on.

“I wish she hadn't done that,” Delacroix said finally.

There was real regret in his voice, not anger but a genuine sorrow as if mention of the name wounded him. Though he was still royally pissed and annoyed about of Delacroix lack of communication, Squall could understand why the man wouldn't want to even hear the girl's name. Having gone through that kind of loss himself, he could understand the absence Delacroix must have still felt.

“Why didn't you ever tell your wife about her?” Squall asked. “Why the secrecy?

“I couldn't,” Delacroix said. “It's not easy to remember, let alone talk about.”

“I understand, but it _is_ relevant to protecting Rinoa,” Squall said. “If that's still your aim.”

“It is,” Delacroix said. “That's always been my aim.”

“Then, I need to know who you suspect is responsible,” Squall said. “Anything and everything you can tell me.”

“I don't know,” Delacroix said. “There are a few who are not happy with me for helping her free Timber, but there are also a few who are involved in this ridiculous cult. I'm sure Emelda mentioned that.”

“She did, but I want your opinion,” Squall said.

“I can only tell you who isn't a suspect,” Delacroix said. “It's a very short list.”

Squall said nothing and waited.

“Danielle's sister, Lori, or Lorraine was a suspect when Danielle died, but I can say, without a doubt, Lori is not involved.”

“Your personal assistant, you mean?” Squall asked. “Lorraine DeLong.”

“You've done your homework.”

“Thoroughly,” Squall said. “What about Rinoa's father?”

“I'm not sure I follow,” Delacroix said.

Squall decided to play his ace in the hole. The man was not returning Rinoa's calls, so he might as well extract as much information as he could while he had him on the line.

“How about Rinoa's brother?” Squall asked. “Or, half-brother."

This was met with a prolonged, stunned silence.

“How did you know about that?”

“You hired me to investigate,” Squall said. “I've done my job.”

He didn't mention that he wasn't the one who had found out.T he only thing that mattered now was figuring out what the game was, who the players were, and how they all tied together.

“Does Noni know about this?” Delacroix asked.

“She does,” Squall said.

“Is she upset with me?”

“I suggest you ask her that,” Squall said. “Who else can I exclude from the list?”

“Well, now that you bring it up, her father can be excluded,” Delacroix said. “As well as your own.”

Laguna was never a suspect. He wasn't involved, and he'd loved Rinoa too much to ever want to hurt her.

“What about Emelda Fontaine?” Squall asked.

“She's not to be trusted,” Delacroix said. “Not even a little. She has her own schemes, her own agenda and no one knows what it is until it's too late.”

Squall wondered if this was the truth. Over the course of their conversation with her, Squall had detected no deception. That wasn't to say that she didn't have an agenda of her own, but he did not believe they'd been lied to or that the woman was working against them.

“So Emelda is on the list.”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Marty Dumas?”

“No.”

“No?”

Squall was surprised the man wasn't Delacroix's number one suspect. A little digging had revealed the man was heavily connected to organized crime. If anyone had the resources to terrorize someone, it would be Dumas, and he had been at the top of Squall's long list of suspicious persons.

“Dumas is not a good man,” Delacroix said. “I will freely admit that. However, he has profited from Timber's liberation. He made a fortune, perhaps not legally, but a fortune nonetheless. If anything, he owes Noni for that.”

Squall abhorred the nickname and it grated on his nerves in a way that was akin to a bit of glass in his shoe. Irritating at first, and then painful as the glass broke the skin and dug in deeper with every step. The more he heard it, the more he hated it.

“His wife? Jackie?”

“She's a suspect,” Delacroix said. “She harbors an extreme dislike for Noni and has made no secret of it. She and her family have also long been associated with the Descendants of Hyne.”

Squall made a note of that. If she had a family connection to the cult, then perhaps their desire to torment and kill Sorceresses had been passed down like a precious heirloom.

“The Kilroy's?”

“Doubtful,” Delacroix said. “Lance spends his time drinking and philandering while Lacey shops. There's not even half a functioning brain cell between them.”

Thinking of the flower delivery, Squall asked, “Is there any reason someone would want to make it look like they were involved?”

“I can't imagine why,” Delacroix said. “No one would believe it.”

“And the DeLong's?”

“Possibly involved,” Delacroix said. “Both of them.”

Squall wondered why Delacroix hadn't been forthcoming with this information before now, and why it had taken him three days to return his call. Or why he hadn't called Rinoa at all. Rinoa was positively fuming over it. She didn't need to tell him how angry she was. He could feel it across the bond, flickering up like a spark that had found gasoline every time she thought about it.

“What about you?” Squall asked.

There was a soft laugh on the other end.

“I'd advise you to trust me as much as you trust anyone. I'm a suspect, after all,” Delacroix said. “But you should know, I would never, ever harm Rinoa. No more than you ever would.”

For some reason, Squall believed him.

“Okay,” Squall said, switching gears. “Tell me about what happened with Danielle. I don't need to know details about your relationship. I'm more interested in what tactics they used to scare her.”

Delacroix cleared his throat and paused for nearly a full minute before speaking again.

“Well, they were very similar circumstances to what's going on now,” Delacroix said. “Vaguely threatening poetry, gifts of unpleasant things.”

“Such as?”

“Dead roses. A human heart. A pair of wings from a sparrow,” Dexacroix said. “At the time, I just thought it was someone playing a sick joke. I got security to look after her when I wasn't around in case it wasn't. One of them turned up dead, his heart cut out. The heart was left on her doorstep. Lorraine found it.”

Squall scribbled the details in shorthand on his notepad.

“Then, the phone calls started,” Delacroix said. His tone was distant, far away. “Sometimes they called to scream, just this... awful sound, like someone dying. Other times they made threats. Someone tried to kidnap her from a ball, right there at the house. Fortunately, I was with her but she was terrified afterwards. She cried for the rest of the night. Broke my heart to feel that kind of fear in her...”

There was another long pause.

“The night of the accident, I knew we were followed,” he said. “I tried to outrun them, so when they forced us off the road, we must have been going 90 or more. We rolled... I was thrown through the windshield.... Danielle... she was....”

“I know that part,” Squall said, feeling an unexpected need to spare the man from those particular details. “Did you see anyone?”

“No. I just heard voices,” Delacroix said. “A woman and a man. I was in and out, so I can't say how long they were there, or what they looked like.”

“Who did you suspect back then?”

“Emelda Fonatine.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

The rest of Rinoa's week was a blur of activity. She got up at sunrise every day and worked until late in the evening to prepare for the ball. Her decorator had canceled last minute, and she'd had no luck finding a replacement, so she'd had to do it herself. She had no aptitude for crafts and enlisted Lily to help, and together they managed.

Lily's beautiful hand-made paper fans and masks hung from the ceiling, and dark, luxurious fabric draped over the walls. They used more of the paper fans as centerpieces for the tables, and Lily had personalized and decorated over 75 masks to be used for the place settings.

It looked amazing. Better than a professional job, in Rinoa's opinion.

Meanwhile, she'd also fit in training time with Zell and Angel. Angel was too big to launch, but she proved valuable in a fight and was overcome with doggy joy each time Rinoa commanded her to attack Zell. It was a fun game to her, but poor Zell was left with bruises and bite marks that Rinoa had to heal at the end of each session. Zell brushed off her apologies with a grin and a firm pat on the shoulder, but it didn't stop her from feeling bad that he'd taken so much abuse on her behalf.

By Friday morning, she was confident she could handle herself, and sure she would be able to cast whatever magic she needed if it came to that. She hoped it wouldn't.

Squall was quiet and focused, and busy enough himself that at the end of each day, he retired to the couch without much to say. Rinoa wanted in on his plans, to know what was going on so that she was prepared, but all he had to say about it was that she was to plan for the worst, be on guard,and keep training.

She'd tried to pry into his thoughts, only to be shut down. Every single time she did it, she was rewarded with a mental image of Seifer drooling, face down on the couch. Squall had a sense of humor about it, but it also made her want to force her way in to find out exactly what he was hiding. And she _knew_ he was hiding something.

The caterers arrived midday, just as Squall left to take care of a few things at his townhouse, namely to retrieve his jacket and investigate a possible break-in. He mentioned he planned to get a haircut while he was out and would return after he picked Lily up from school. That left Seifer with her to get the caterers started.

Seifer stood behind her and glared at the staff, silent for a change as Rinoa gave them their instructions. She knew he was trying to make his presence known in the most menacing way possible, but it was hard not to giggle at the murderous expression that was probably fueled by his lingering anger with Quistis.

As the day wore on, she worked her way through her list of things to accomplish before she could even think about getting ready herself. The flowers were delivered, and then the band arrived to set up.

By 5 PM, she was worn out, but Squall was back and already getting ready for the event. Lily was on the couch, doodling in a sketchbook next to a bored, college-age baby sitter. Rinoa stepped into the living room and gave Angel a scratch behind the ear as she greeted Lily.

Lily was sullen and quiet, and Rinoa had a hunch she knew why. Squall had told Lily _no_ when she'd asked to go to the ball, and Lily did not understand why she couldn't stay for a little while and then go back to the guest house. Squall explained that it wasn't for kids, but she hadn't really understood, especially not after all the work she'd put into it.

Rinoa remembered being that age and desperately wishing to attend her father's galas downstairs but not being allowed to. She hadn't understood at the time either. All she'd wanted was to look at pretty dresses and watch people dance. That was all Lily wanted, too. She wanted to see the costumes and maybe sample the caviar to say she'd tried it.

Rinoa was a bit more sympathetic than Squall had been on the matter. Had they not been in the midst of an investigation and possible assassination plot, Rinoa would have insisted Lily be allowed to go. She vowed she would take Lily to the art supply store and let her go crazy. The girl deserved something in return for her hard work.

“Squall got a hair cut,” Lily announced. “He looks weird.”

Rinoa smiled. “I bet. I hope you teased him a little.”

“I teased him a lot,” she said. “He got kinda mad.”

“He's not mad at you, sweetie,” Rinoa said. “There's a lot he has to do right now, a lot he's responsible for.”

“He's responsible for me, too,” Lily said. “Sometimes, it's like he gets so busy, he forgets I'm here.”

“I'm sorry,” Rinoa said as she smoothed her hand over Lily's hair. “It doesn't mean he doesn't love you, you know.”

“I know,” Lily said.

“This will all be over soon,” Rinoa said. “And things will go back to normal.”

“Can I at least see your costume?”

“Sure,” Rinoa said. “I've got to go start getting ready, but we'll both show off before we leave, okay? Angel, too.”

Rinoa was tired and anxious and she just wanted to get this over with. If all went well, tonight would be the end of this insanity and things could go back to normal, for everyone. Zell missed his wife and daughters, and Squall and Seifer had a business to run.

As far as herself, Rinoa wasn't sure what she would do, but she unless something changed, she did not want to stay here. The hell with the money and the jewels. The hell with the parties and the socialites. To hell with all that. Her only regret would not be having a deep well of resources to draw from to help others.

More than that, she regretted that she would not able to pay for Lily's tuition to the Art Academy next year. At least, though, she'd had the foresight to pay for the remainder of this year. Maybe the girl might earn an actual scholarship, or Squall might swallow his pride long enough to ask Laguna. Either way, Rinoa hoped Lily was able to stay. She just wouldn't be able to be the one to make sure that happened.

When Squall emerged from the bathroom, she froze. A dozen old memories assaulted her as she looked him over. Plain white v-neck t-shirt, black leather pants. Too many belts. But what really got her was the Griever pendant around his neck.

“I thought you broke that on a mission,” Rinoa said.

“I did,” he said. “Zell fixed it.”

The facial hair had made him look rugged and mature, and the long hair more like Laguna, but the face staring back at her now was that of the boy she'd known. Time had taken away that slight androgynous beauty of his youth, but there was still more than just a little of the baby-faced commander left in his profile.

When he reached for a leather holster and slid it on over his t-shirt, she remembered what the whole point of this was. The outfit was the past. The holster and the firearm it contained was the present. _That_ was reality, and this was not a trip down memory lane.

“You should probably go get changed,” Squall said as he stuck a handful of spare magazines in his pockets.

Rinoa dutifully dressed in the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror when the outfit was complete. She'd been so fond of the sleeveless blue duster as a young woman, but it now felt like she wore someone else's clothes. Was she really so far removed from the girl she'd been, or was it just a bad fashion choice she now regretted?

At least she didn't have to sit through two hours of hair and make-up or drape herself in jewels. Her make-up was negligible; just a hint of neutral shadow and a bit of mascara, pale pink gloss on her lips. And she'd done nothing with her hair. Back then, only Selphie had the desire or will to make sure her hair was perfect all the time. Not even Zell bothered to make sure his tall spikes were perfect all the time. Rinoa thought was pointless to care, when getting blood or monster guts in it was inevitable.

When she returned to the bedroom, Squall was in the process of attaching his gunblade to his hip. She couldn't help but feel she was back in the old days, watching him prepare for another day of fighting and another day of struggling to stay alive.

“Loaded for bear in the weapons department,” Rinoa said.

“You'll be armed, too,” Squall said without looking up.

“What?”

He pointed to the bed where a belt clip holster and two magazines waited. Rinoa blinked at them in surprise. He'd said he wanted her to be armed, but for some reason, she didn't expect this. She was already going to be wearing her Shooting Star, and Angel would be at her side. A third weapon was overkill.

When she said nothing, he looked up at her and his expression turned from indifference to haunted in an instant. He stared for a long moment before his face rearranged itself back to something more neutral. He picked up the holster and handed it to her.

“Clip it to the waistband of your skirt,” he said. “Somewhere easy to reach.”

“Won't it show under my sweater?” she asked stupidly.

It was a dumb question. Right now wasn't the time to worry about lumps and bumps under clothing. At least this outfit was more practical than what she'd originally had in mind. Hiding a gun in a ball gown would have been awkward and uncomfortable, if not impossible.

The point was not to look flawless but to remind her pursuers who and what she was. A pang of fear cut through her and she nervously reached up to grasp the chain around her neck. Her thumb glided over the face of Squall's old ring like a touchstone.

If Squall hadn't noticed it before, he did now. His eyes fell on the chain and he hooked a finger under it.

“Can't believe you still have that.”

“Want it back?”

“No.”

He stepped away to pull on his old leather jacket. The leather was worn on the elbows and showed signs of scarring where it had protected him from wounds, but the fur collar was just as pristine as it had been years ago. Without thinking, she reached out and ran her fingers through the fur and found it was just as soft. After all this time, it still smelled of gunpowder and something vaguely like bergamot.

Squall's eyes were on her when she looked up. She offered him a small smile and stepped back, out of his personal space but they stared at one another for half a minute before Squall reached out and caught her left hand in his.

To Rinoa's surprise, he slipped the wedding ring off her finger.

“You're not wearing this tonight,” he said.

Rinoa blinked at him, unsure of what to say or how to take that. He didn't explain himself or his reasons as he put the massive diamond in a hidden pocket inside his jacket.

“The ladies will talk,” she said. “They'll notice.”

“Let them,” he said as he turned away from her to reach for his gloves. “Do you care if they do?”

“No,” she admitted. “It'll get back to Ian, though.”

The knuckles and palms of his gloves were worn and scarred with gunpowder burns around the knuckles. They were the real thing. Rinoa had looked at them enough over the course of their relationship to recognize the wear pattern in the palms and pitted burns along the index finger.

She also remembered what they felt like against her bare skin, but now as not the time to think about that.

“Good,” he said. “I want it to.”

“What are you planning?” she asked.

Squall's arms folded across his chest and Rinoa was struck by how _much_ he looked like the seventeen year old SeeD, green as a cactuar, that had woken her on the Forest Owls train. Closed off, cut off, with a distinct air of danger about him, yet reeking of unconscious vulnerability. It was wildly appealing. And distracting.

“He didn't come back when your life was in danger,” Squall said. He cast his eyes to the floor.

“And?” Rinoa prompted.

“Jealousy's a powerful motivator.”

“I don't understand.”

“I need to know what his priorities are,” Squall said. “I don't believe he'd hurt you, but that doesn't mean he's not involved.”

“Okay... But, how is me not wearing my ring going to prove that?”

“It won't, but if he hears about it and rushes home, he didn't hire me for the sake of your happiness,” Squall said. “And if he hears about it and stays put...”

He left the rest unspoken and turned away from her. He didn't need to continue for her to get the point.

“Listen...” he said as he ran a hand through his much shorter hair. “I want you to be aware of everything going on around you tonight. Anything suspicious, anything out of the ordinary, I want to know about it right away.”

“Of course,” she agreed.

“And this should go without saying, but don't drink, not even a little bit,” he said. “Order tonic water with a lime or something similar. Don't accept drinks from anyone but the bartender and don't leave your drink unattended even for a second.”

Rinoa sat down on the bed and watched him, wondering what he expected to go down tonight. She picked up on an uneasiness in him that seemed to be rooted in nothing more than instinct. If he was just being prepared, she could understand. If he knew more than he was saying, she wanted and needed to know.

“It's just a hunch,” he said when she voiced her concern. “I have nothing concrete, but this has to come to a head, one way or another. Tonight's the perfect opportunity to get to you on your own turf. If nothing happens, then I was wrong. If something does, we end this.”

She wondered again what happened after this whole thing was over. Would he go home and make himself forget her? That thought was unbearable. The very idea of him needing to forget about her to survive made her want to wrap her arms around him and promise to never leave him again.

If he were to admit to wanting her back, it wouldn't even be a question. If the last few weeks had proved anything, it was that she still loved him. Trying to live without him now, if he walked away at the end of this, would rip her heart out. And if so, she deserved it.

“I also don't want you to get any ideas,” he said, “but I'm going to act like you're mine tonight. It would be wise to play along.”

Was he kidding? Squall Leonhart, acting? He was not an actor and he never would be. Either, he would draw upon the wellspring of their past relationship or he would be painfully awkward in his attempt. Both would be interesting to watch.

“I can play along,” she promised. “How obvious do you want me to be?”

“To the point where everyone in the room notices.”

She leaned back on her palms and watched him slip on a pair of combat boots. These were not the original, but a close enough approximation that nothing looked particularly amiss. She smiled her approval when he turned to her and offered her his hand.

“Ready?” he asked.

“As ready as once can be when facing possible execution,” she said.

“That won't happen,” he said. “Promise.”

Her breath was stolen away and she couldn't seem to get it back.

_Promise._

Promises were what had bound him to her in the first place. Promises were the reason he'd broken when she went away. He could not afford to make another the same way she could not afford to make rash and impulsive choices.

“Something's missing.”

Rinoa looked at him, unsure of what he meant. She was sure she'd gotten all the details right, but she looked down at herself to check that she hadn't forgotten anything. While it wasn't all that important that they replicate the look exactly, she didn't want to forget any of the major things. It needed to be absolutely clear who they were supposed to be.

“You're a Sorceress,” he said. “You should probably look like one.”

His fingers grazed over the faint tattoo lines on her shoulder blade. She shuddered at his touch and impulsively stepped forward into him. Her head dropped to his shoulder and she breathed in gunpowder and leather and that faint citrus scent of bergamot. The fur ruff of his coat was soft against her cheek.

It was like coming home after a long absence, and as his arms rose to fold her against him, she could breathe again.

“Wings Rin?” he murmured into her hair. “I meant the wings.”

“I'm saving that for later,” she said. “I want to see their faces when I whip those suckers out.”

His soft laugh was a rumble in her ear. Maybe he would be pretending tonight, but she wouldn't be. For her, it was far too late to turn back and far too late to try and resist the the bond she'd denied all these years. And if Ian didn't come running home over the news she'd taken off her ring, her choice would be easy.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Lily let out a squeal of delight the moment she saw Squall step out of the bedroom in his old clothes. Then, she burst into laughter and clapped her hands when Rinoa appeared behind him, dressed as her teenage rebel-self. For the moment, Lily was too amused to sulk.

As much as Squall would have liked to give into her every whim, tonight, he wanted her as far away from events as possible. The townhouse was compromised, and there was nowhere else he was comfortable leaving her. At least here, he was close enough that he could check up on her or respond if there was danger.

"You two look so cute!" Lily said. "It's just like mom's old pictures."

Lily eyed Squall critically and her mouth quirked to the side. Squall prepared himself for whatever invasive question she was about to ask.

"How come you have so many belts?"

"They hold my gunblade."

"Yeah, but there's like six of them."

"Three," Squall corrected, as if it mattered. He sat down on the coffee table in front of Lily and took her face between his palms to plant a kiss between her eyes. "You know the rules, right? You stay put. Don't open the door for anyone, and if you need me or something happens, use the radio I gave you earlier."

"Yeah, yeah," she said. "Got it."

"I'm serious, Lil," he said. "I don't want you roaming around by yourself tonight. There will be a lot of people here you don't know, and it could be dangerous."

"I'll stay put," she said. "There's a movie on I want to watch anyway. Can we make popcorn?"

"Yes," he said. "Just make sure not to get it all over the place."

"I know, I know," Lily said with a dramatic eye roll. "That's how we get ants."

Behind him, Rinoa smothered a giggle behind her hand. Squall cast her a dark look over his shoulder, but he struggled not to crack a smile.

"Alright, kiddo. We've got to go. Be good and don't hesitate to call me, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed. "Have fun."

"I'll have the kitchen save some dessert for you, okay?" Rinoa said.

"Yes! Chocolate cake?"

"You got it," Rinoa promised.

Squall pressed another kiss to her forehead and stood, reluctant to leave her in the care of only a sitter. The girl wasn't Lily's usual sitter, and that made him uneasy. He wished he could take someone off duty to watch over her, but he needed everyone he had. All he could do was make sure Zell kept an eye on the guest house and the ground patrol checked on her regularly.

"Rin, you ready?"

"Yeah," she said. "Come on Angel."

The dog came to her side and sat awaiting command. Squall was not a fan of dogs, but he'd seen enough of Angel and dogs like her to have a lot of respect for what they could be trained to do and how willing they were to do it. It was a shame people weren't so eager to please or so happy to follow orders. It would have made life a lot easier. Nevertheless, he gave the dog a scratch on the head and was rewarded with an enthusiastic lick to the hand and energetic tail wag.

Outside, he locked the door of the guest house and made visual sweep of the area. He was already edgy and anticipated a battle, but here was no obvious threat. It didn't hurt to be aware, and his gut told him not to trust they were safe.

He thought about the imaginary monsters of his long ago break-down. Of how they'd come creeping out of the shadows...

He shook off the memories and reached for Rinoa's hand. His fingers curled around hers and he told himself it was only a warm up for the show to come, but it was a lie. It was her touch he craved, and he was stronger with her than he was without her. It had always been that way.

The shadows did not have teeth. He was fine and it was only on his mind because Zell had brought it up. He was years past it and in no danger of regressing. It wasn't relevant anymore. Whoever he was looking for would be hiding in plain sight and not a past phantom that was only in his head.

With any luck, the guilty parties would make a crucial mistake and give Squall and all involved a definite course of action. He was weary of this, ready to put an end to it and go home.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "Aren't we going to greet the guests?"

"Control room," he said. "We'll make our entrance once the majority have arrived."

"Why?" she asked. "The hostess is supposed to meet and greet at the door."

"Not tonight," Squall said. "We're not playing by the rules anymore."

"I see Seifer's having a positive influence on you."

"Don't ever let him hear you say that."

"It'll go straight to his head," Rinoa agreed. "I trust you. Just, don't keep me in the dark, okay? I've had enough of people hiding things from me."

On its own, his hand lifted and brushed the bangs from her eyes. There was too much tenderness in his touch to blame it on his superior acting skills. He may have warned her that he was only pretending, but he was not a man who was capable of faking affection or feelings he didn't have. All he could do now was use what affection he did feel to his advantage. He would deal with the fallout later.

"I won't keep anything important from you," he promised as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "But you have to promise me you won't go running off on your own little mission without telling me. Just stay close to me, okay?"

A visible shiver passed through her and she blinked back some emotion Squall didn't get a chance to read before the control room door burst open and Seifer stepped out.

There was something deeply disconcerting about Seifer Almasy in an expensive, tailored suit. The man was menacing enough in plain clothes and the suit added a whole new level of intimidation for reasons Squall had never been able to put his finger on. Maybe it was that he looked clean-cut and professional but exuded violence and intensity. Or maybe that the professional attire changed his posture and he appeared taller and broader and more dangerous than he already was.

"Well, look at you, all cleaned up," Seifer said with a grin. He reached out and gave Squall's clean-shaven cheek a not-so-gentle pat. "You look like you just went through puberty."

Squall ignored the jab and pushed past Seifer to lead Rinoa by the hand into the control room. On the desk were a handful of wireless radios and he reached for one and its corresponding ear piece. He clipped the radio into one of his pockets and then attached the small, wireless ear piece to his right ear. He tested it, heard his voice echo back to him over Seifer and Zell's radios.

"Everyone knows what they're supposed to do?" he asked.

There were nods all around.

"Any questions?"

No one spoke up.

"Guests are already arriving, so go ahead and get into position," Squall said. "Seifer, make sure you're circulating. Zell, don't take your eyes off those monitors."

* * *

Seifer followed the crowd into the ballroom, his eyes peeled for anything out of order. All around him, rich people in ridiculously ornate and expensive costumes chatted and greeted one another. He overheard snippets of boring conversation about stocks and profits and designer shoes, bits of gossip and a few unkind comments about their hostess for her failure to receive them.

Once inside the ballroom, he took a turn around the perimeter and ignored the suspicious and curious looks directed his way.

Some of these people might recognize him, but Seifer didn't care one away or another. Let them gawk and whisper. If they knew who he was, they would be on their very best behavior. Word would spread, and any villain with half a brain would tuck tail and run when they saw him coming. That could hurt them, or it could work in their favor.

There wasn't much going on, just a bunch of bored, rich losers who didn't have the good sense to go to a bar to get sauced like the rest of the world. Seifer couldn't imagine living among these people, attending weekly balls and galas like it was no big deal. How Rinoa tolerated this stupidity, Seifer had no idea. Even for the sake of Timber, he had a hard time believing she'd put up with the ignorant, pretentious conversations or the amount of money these people wasted on bullshit. The flowers alone would have paid for Seifer's kitchen remodel. The cost of catering would have paid for a new roof.

He stood near the main doorway and watched people file in. He took particular pleasure in staring down the ones that looked too long. It was mostly the men who stared, they sized him up as if he was either a threat or competition.

One or two of the ladies stared longer than was socially acceptable, and the looks he got from the handful of brave ones were flirtatious, not hostile. Under normal circumstances, he would have returned their attention or offered a smile in response. Tonight, it would ruin the image he meant to project, so he put on his meanest face and stared back, unflinching until they averted their eyes.

Most of the costumes were fairytale inspired, and he was surrounded by a sea of white and black and violet and navy, so when the woman dressed in red walked in, his eyes were naturally drawn to her.

The slinky, sparkling red gown hugged every, single, perfect curve of her lean body and the jewel studded fabric shimmered like flames under the light. He was practically drooling over the hint of leg that peeked out from the slit in her dress. It didn't matter what her costume was, and Seifer would have been hard pressed to give it a name, but she was gorgeous in it.

When she turned toward him, his stupid heart gave a hard, painful squeeze of both terror and delight. Even through the streaks of red and the heavy glittered designs on her cheeks, he knew that face almost as well as he knew his own. He'd spent hours studying it in hotel rooms and across dinner tables at restaurants. He'd studied that face from the back of a Garden classroom and from the other side of a battlefield, and he would have known her anywhere.

If she saw him, she didn't let on. He stepped away from his post and reached for her arm, but thought the better of it. She had left him ten messages, all of which he had failed to answer. It wasn't out of anger that he hadn't called her back, but rather embarrassment.

He should have known better than to expect her to fall all over herself at his impulsive and ill thought out proposal. Asking her to drop everything was asking her to defy who she was. One of the things he loved about her was her refusal to be a doe-eyed damsel looking for a man to rescue her. She was not the insecure instructor anymore, and she certainly didn't need him to take care of her.

But, that didn't stop him from wanting to be her hero.

He watched her go with a bit of lust mingled with genuine affection and a lot of jealousy as he noticed the way men's eyes followed her. Though he didn't blame them for looking, the possessive side of him roared to life and made him want to sucker punch the next guy that eye-fucked her as she passed.

"Get a grip, Almasy," he muttered to himself.

"Problem?" Squall's voice said in his ear.

Seifer jerked upright and realized he'd leaned against the wall and had accidentally depressed the button on his radio.

"No problem," he said. "But, what the hell is Trepe doing here?"

"Rin invited her," Squall said. "Is there a problem?"

Seifer knew why Rinoa had invited Quistis, and he didn't need the distraction.

"You tell Rin to mind her own business," Seifer snapped.

"Suck it up, you big baby," Rinoa said. "Quit moping and do something about it."

"What do you want me to do, forget about the bad guys so I can solve my relationship problems?"

"I didn't mean right now," Rinoa said. "She'll be in Dollet the whole weekend, so think of a really good apology for later."

"I don't want to talk about this," he said. "Get the hell out here, would you? Your guests are starting to talk."

It was true. Seifer had picked up on the murmurs, questioning Rinoa's failure to appear. He saw the furtive glances and the knowing looks and he was anxious to get this started. So far, nothing was happening, save the arrival of the woman that had stomped all over his black little heart.

"We'll be there in a minute," Squall said.

"What's keeping you, anyway?" Seifer asked.

"You'll see."

Seifer impatiently paced around near the door, took another turn around the room and returned in time to see Squall and Rinoa peak out from behind a curtain like a couple of kids spying on their parent's party. It might have been comical if not for the rising tension in the room at Rinoa's absence.

The arrival of the guests had trickled to a handful of stragglers, and Seifer moved closer to the door to get an idea of how many were still dallying in the foyer. There were only three couples, all in the midst a jovial conversation amongst themselves. Otherwise, the majority of Rinoa's guests had arrived. He didn't know Squall's plan, or if he even had one, but he didn't particularly enjoy standing around waiting for something happen.

"You don't think she's been murdered, do you?" a woman nearby asked another. "I mean, after everything that's happened here, it wouldn't be a surprise."

"One can only hope," the second lady said. "We haven't had a good scandal in a while."

"Bitches," Seifer muttered under his breath. "Leonhart, the natives are getting restless. Rin needs to get out here before they start rioting and stealing the sliver."

"Relax," Squall said. "We're on our way."

White feathers began to fall all around him, and Seifer looked up in surprise. He wasn't the only one who noticed. The whole room stopped what they were doing to watch the spectacle of feathers swirling softly on a breeze of unknown origin. The dull roar of boring conversation died down to a murmur as everyone looked at the door with curiosity and anticipation. A moment later, Squall stepped through, Rinoa on his arm.

Seifer felt like he was eighteen again for a second, watching the happy couple on the news while he hid out with Edea and Cid at the orphanage until his hearing. He'd known then they had a tough road ahead of them, he just never imagined that it would be this tough. He might have envied them their happiness after the war, if not what they were, but he certainly didn't envy them now.

Rinoa smiled broadly at her guests as she clung to Squall's arm. She stopped to survey the crowd and a pair of pearly white wings  _exploded_  from her back. Twelve feet across and pale as milk, they were breathtaking.

Gasps erupted all around them, Seifer himself not immune. He hadn't expected grandstanding of this sort, but it was impressive as hell.

Seifer had only seen Rinoa's wings in the midst of battle, whilst getting the shit kicked out of him. He hadn't had the chance to appreciate their beauty. Even Squall, who had probably seen them more times than he could count, was not unaffected by how impressive a twelve foot wing span was up close. Seifer would have been blind to miss the flash of admiration and pride in Squall's eyes as he looked down at his Sorceress.

A protracted silence followed their entrance. Rinoa smiled placidly at her guests as though she hadn't walked into a room and whipped out a pair of wings. She turned her eyes on the leather clad Knight at her side and Squall's smile for Rinoa was soft and kind. Squall lifted a gloved hand to caress Rinoa's cheek and locked eyes with her.

If they were faking this, they were doing a damned good job. It sure looked like the real thing.

The tension was thick as the silence wore on, and the pair at the door only had eyes for one another. They paid no mind to the crowd or the stares of shock their little show had drawn. Seifer held his breath and it dawned on him what they were doing and why.

Seifer began to clap and he glared at the people around him to indicate they were supposed to clap too. All hail the freakin' Sorceress and her Love Struck Knight.

One by one, the guests joined in until the room was a cacophony of applause and a few shouted greetings. The room was abuzz with murmurs as the noise died down, and Squall and Rinoa were surrounded by people who stepped forward to greet them.

Seifer searched the crowd for disgruntled faces. A blonde woman a little younger than Rinoa looked mutinous for a second before she joined the crowd. A few feet away, a young man with dark hair and even darker eyes, wearing a server uniform, refused to clap. The kid stood off to the side, arms folded over his chest and he glared at the Sorceress and her Knight from the sidelines as if they'd killed his whole family. With his phone, Seifer snapped a couple photos for reference, in case he needed them later.

As the shock died down and people started to converse among themselves again, Seifer pushed his way through the crowd to stand behind Rinoa, making his presence known to all. In a way, his role tonight was as a secondary Knight and he intended to make himself a silent menace as he shadowed them through the room.

When Quistis approached, his throat tightened and he was forced to acknowledge her with a sharp nod rather than a greeting, snide or otherwise. Cool blue eyes took him in, a ghost of a smile on her lips as her eyes followed the lines of his suit. He stood aside as she accepted Rinoa's welcoming hug.

"You look amazing," Rinoa said. "Pele, right?"

"Right," Quistis said, pleased. "But look at you two! I feel like I'm eighteen again."

"I didn't expect you to come," Rinoa said. "But I'm so glad to see you."

"Last minute decision," Quistis said. "My weekend plans were canceled, so... Here I am."

Seifer stiffened at the slight jab and he struggled to keep the anger from showing on his face.

"Well, don't let me keep you," Quistis said. "I think I spotted Laguna a few minutes ago, so I think I'll go say hello. And if you need any back-up, just say the word."

"Will do," Squall said.

Seifer watched her walk away, and every part of him wanted to follow. He wanted to drag her into some dark corner and kiss her until she couldn't see straight. But as far as an apology, he would not apologize for wanting her to be a part of his world. He wouldn't apologize for that. Not ever.

* * *

Rinoa worked her way thorough tedious and boring small talk with her guests, praising costumes and giving thanks for their attendance, but her heart was not in it. All her attention was on the periphery and trying to fight off the growing anxiety inside her.

Anything could happen. Anything at all and she was so keyed up, Squall had to take her aside and remind her they were supposed to be playing at being an item.

Not that Squall was doing much better. After that first moment when they'd walked in, he'd pulled back and now he stood awkwardly at her side and looked as tense as she felt.

"If we're going to do this, we need to be convincing," Squall said.

"I feel like some guy in a mask is going to jump out at me waving a knife or something," she said. "Kind of takes the focus off of what we're supposed to be doing."

Squall nodded his agreement. She glanced around and saw eyes on them all around the room, waiting to see their earlier suspicions confirmed.

Rinoa didn't know if she could honestly  _pretend_. He might have been able to separate the game from reality, but she knew her response to his attention would be genuine. There was no way around it, either. She had always been driven by emotion first and reason second, whereas Squall had always processed things from a tactical standpoint. Emotion had always been secondary or tertiary when it came to making decisions, and he rarely allowed his personal feelings to interfere with his choices.

Except when it came to her stupid, impulsive choices.

So it would be now, and she would have to remind herself that anything he did would be because the situation warranted it, not because he wanted her.

"So, what do we do?" she asked.

"We need to make it obvious," Squall said.

"What do you suggest?"

"Kiss me."

"Right now?"

"Right now."

"Um..." she began as her cheeks grew warm.

Behind Squall, Seifer smirked. Whether Seifer overheard their whispered conversation or not, Rinoa didn't know, but she didn't want him staring at her like that.

"I don't think I can."

"Why not?" Squall demanded.

She pointed and he turned to catch Seifer's gaze. The latter grinned back suggestively and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Almasy, take a walk."

Seifer gave a lazy salute and headed off, but not without casting a smug look over his shoulder as he went.

"Pain in the ass," Squall muttered. He righted himself and looked down at her, irritation lingering in his gaze. "Better?"

"A little."

"Would it be easier if I did it?"

Rinoa bit her lip and her cheeks warmed. She nodded and her heart gave an almost painful squeeze in her chest. She had no right to anticipate his kiss. No right to be so delighted.

"Remember, this is just for show," he said as he stepped forward to take her face between his gloved palms.

"Right," she said. "Just for show."

At the first brush of his mouth against hers, all thoughts of whether this was real or not were forgotten. His kiss grew bolder, sensual and determined and Rinoa's insides turned to jelly. If this was just for show, Squall Leonhart had come a long, long way with his acting skills. There was nothing clinical about the way he kissed her or the soft but possessive rumble in his chest as he drew her closer.

Rinoa kissed him back eagerly but, Hyne, she wanted more. All the while, Squall's demanding kiss grew more and more heated, their bodies pressed together and not an inch of space between them.

Unable to stop herself, her arms curled around his neck and her wings beat the air at her back as her excitement grew. His gloved fingers dug into her back and there was no mistaking his desire for anything else.

_I never should have let you go._

"I never should have left," she murmured against his lips. "I'm sorry..."

A low growl reverberated through his chest as his hands drove into her hair and he reclaimed her lips for his own. All she knew in that moment was her Knight and how badly she still needed him. The whole place could burn down around them, and Rinoa wouldn't have cared.

"You think maybe you two could cool it?" Seifer asked over the radio, loud enough that Rinoa could hear it from Squall's ear piece. "Keep that up and I'm gonna need a little alone time, if you know what I mean."

Squall broke away, his hands still tangled in her hair. Against her chest, his heart pounded a wild, fierce beat, in near perfect sync with her own.

"Who asked you to watch, Alamsy?"

The spell was broken, but the heat between them remained. Squall's eyes fixed on hers, steady and calm, but a shudder passed through him as he released her and railed a gloved fingertip down the side of her face.

He took a deep breath and visibly collected himself as he casually stepped back. Rinoa cursed his ability to switch gears so quickly. She cursed his self control. That was a quality she seemed to lack. Her thermometer still ran high and she hadn't yet caught her breath, yet Squall had already slipped back into SeeD mode.

Maybe he was a better actor than she'd thought.

"We should dance," Squall said and reached for her hand.

A dance would not help Rinoa cool off, but she allowed him to lead her to the floor. There weren't many couples dancing yet, and it would put even more of a spotlight on them, but it also gave Squall a good view of the room around them.

He pulled her close rather than follow the steps of the dance. The proper ladies in her circle would be scandalized. They didn't dance this close with their own husbands, but Rinoa dropped her cheek to his shoulder and breathed in the scent of leather and gunpowder. It was more comforting than she expected, and when his lips grazed against the top of her head, she closed her eyes in contentment.

"What are you looking for?" she asked

"Not sure yet."

"Who do you think it is?"

"I only know who it isn't."

He told her about the possibility that he'd been set up, and the more she heard, the more she wondered  _why_. What was the point? What had he done to become a target? As far as she could tell, this did not involve him, so much as it involved Ian, herself and some past grudge.

A thought occurred to her and she pulled back to look up at Squall. He returned her gaze, but beneath the cool stoicism was an intensity that had nothing to do with what was going on around them. She knew that look.

He wasn't faking it.

But even as he leaned down to catch her lips for a brief, tender kiss, her mind twisted around the possibility that no one had considered.

"What if this isn't about me?" she wondered aloud.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, besides me being a Sorceress, what does the past have in common with the present?"

"I don't follow."

"Ian," Rinoa said. "What if this is about him, and I'm just the means to get to him? Maybe Danielle wasn't the target, Ian was."

"It's possible," Squall said, doubtful. "But it doesn't change the list of suspects."

"Changes the motive," Rinoa said.

"Hmm."

His expression turned thoughtful. He was about to say something when Quistis cut in.

"May I?" she asked.

"Sure," Rinoa said.

"Almasy, you're on Sorceress duty," Squall said.

She scowled. Sorceress duty? Like she needed looking after. She carried two different weapons, had a four-legged furry weapon with jaws strong enough to break bones, not to mention,  _she_ was a weapon. She didn't like being treated like she was fragile, especially when she wasn't.

Seifer took his place next to her and stuck his phone in her face.

"Recognize this kid?" he asked.

Rinoa glanced at the photo.

"Steven," Rinoa said. "He's one of our cooks. He's studying to be a chef, goes to the culinary school downtown. Why?"

"He was acting weird when you and Leonhart walked in."

"Weird how?"

"Not real pleased to see the wings," Seifer said. "What about this one?"

She looked at the second photo and shook her head. It appeared to be one of the catering staff, a young man in his late teens or early twenties. The face was familiar, but she couldn't place where she'd seen him before. She bit her lip and zoomed in on his face but no name or context came to mind. He'd probably worked her parties before. It wasn't unusual to see the same employees again and again.

"Maybe," she said. "I don't know. Why?"

"Caught him skulking around near the kitchen," Seifer said. "Said he was with the catering crew."

"Probably is," Rinoa said.

"Nah. Something about him and the way he was watching you," Seifer said. "Way too interested."

Seifer's eyes were on Quistis, who moved about the floor on Squall's arm like she owned the place. She had certainly grown up in the years between then and now. She was so elegant and regal and Rinoa regretted not choosing a costume that was more eye catching. Then again, no one at the ball was dressed quite like she and Squall were, and not a one of them at a set of real, live wings on their backs.

As if thinking about them triggered something, her wings extended outward and stretched toward the ceiling on their own. It felt nice, if not strange, to give them a little stretch. She wasn't used to them anymore, having hidden them away from the world for so long.

"Man, those are impressive," Seifer said and shook his head. "Never realized they were all white before."

"Really?"

"Last time I saw 'em... Well, it was a long time ago," Seifer said.

He didn't need to say he meant the war. He probably never realized they were white because, more often than not, she and her wings were covered in dirt and blood and Hyne knew what else.

"Why don't we grab something to drink?" Seifer asked.

"You know why that's a bad idea."

"I didn't say something with alcohol in it," Seifer said, "Though, that might make this party a hell of a lot more interesting."

To her chagrin, Lacey and Miranda stood just in front of the bar. Both clutched pink colored cocktails and both had come dressed as storybook versions of a Sorceress. Their gowns were ornate concoctions of beads and velvet and lace. Fake wings graced their backs and lines like fancy script were drawn around their eyes. Rinoa hid her disdain and smiled broadly at both of them.

"So good to see you," she said. "I must have missed you earlier."

"From what I can tell, you don't have eyes for anything but that gentleman you brought," Miranda said. She eyed Seifer up and down. "When the husband's away, the bored housewife will play."

Rinoa gritted her teeth and forced a smile.

"Well, he is my Knight," Rinoa said.

Lacey looked intrigued. Miranda, scandalized.

"Commander Leonhart?" Lacey asked with wide eyes. "Well, well! I thought you just found yourself a really good impersonator. I hadn't realized he was the real thing. No wonder you can't keep your hands off. I wouldn't be able to help myself either."

"Handsome, isn't he?" Miranda mused. "And here we thought he was just a security technician."

Rinoa just smiled.

Miranda's eyes zeroed in on Rinoa's left hand. She nudged Lacey and gave a not-so-subtle gesture at the ring's absence. It was sure to get back to Ian now, and Rinoa wasn't sure how to feel about that. It felt wrong, but he had all but abandoned her when she needed him most.

Squall had spoken to him, but he still hadn't called her back. He hadn't even bothered to explain himself or answer all the questions that kept her awake at night. The longer he stayed silent, the angrier and more betrayed she felt. It was as if the close friendship she'd believed they shared was just a lie.

Seifer's hand clamped down on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, as if he sensed her frustration. The ladies didn't miss that, either. They had ignored him before, but now they scrutinized him with deep interest.

"Ladies, this is Seifer Almasy," she said. "My body guard."

"You can guard  _my_  body any time," Lacey teased. "How much to steal you away from her?"

Rinoa nearly gagged as Lacey batted her eyes and flashed her most alluring smile. To Seifer's credit, he didn't smile back or return her interest. He channeled Squall and remained blank faced and silent at her side. At his refusal to react, the women returned their attention to Rinoa.

"I must say, your costume is... Interesting," Miranda said. "I never imagined you might arrive as your much younger self. What an odd choice."

"I do love this sweater," Lacey said, plucking at the fabric. "It's so ten years ago. Very retro."

The comment burned, but Rinoa just smiled and stretched her wings. If they wanted to fight dirty, so could she.

"Love the wings, Lacey darling," she said. "They _almost_  look real."

"Tell me, Noni, is this the outfit you wore during the war?" Lacey asked.

"It is."

"How did you manage to keep it so clean? I'd imagine it would be hard to get all that blood out."

Lacey's face was a picture of innocence, but her voice was full of venom. It was unlike her to be this nasty. Rinoa could only assume Lacey had spent too much time among the evil-awful snobs and had learned to play the game.

"I keep forgetting you were in that awful war," Miranda lamented.

The constant attacks about the war had grown stale, and Rinoa was done with the snide comments and put downs. She'd had enough of being treated like she was a lesser person for participating, when these women owed her their safety and their lives.

"At least I had the guts to get up and fight," Rinoa said hotly. "What did you do?"

Seifer's hand landed on the small of her back, as if to tell her to cool it. She shook it off and ignored him. The gloves were off now, the claws out, and Rinoa was done with  _nice_.

"No need to get upset, Noni dear. It just all seems so  _awful_."

"You should be down on your knees thanking me," Rinoa spat. "If not for me and the others, your money and status wouldn't mean anything right now. It's because of  _me_ you can still go get your manicures and shop for shoes and afford to spend Gil like the well has no bottom. If not for _me_ , you would have lost everything, including your lives."

A cold fire started to burn in her chest and it was echoed in small arcs of flame that snapped between her fingers. On her back, her wings beat steadily, lit from within by fire and they cast a soft, amber light over the two women before her. Miranda's eyes were fearful but Lacey's were full of delighted curiosity.

"I fought Edea, Adel, and Ultimecia and lived," she said. "What did  _either_  of you do?"

Magic sizzled under her skin as the two woman stood in stunned silence. If she wasn't careful she would lose control, the magic would explode out of her, and these two cackling bitches would fall like a pair of low level Bite Bugs.

Seifer gripped her arm, but Rinoa stayed put, shaking as the magic blazed through her veins. She stared them down until they both looked away, abashed.

"Nothing," Rinoa said with a thoughtful nod. "You did  _nothing_. You hid in your big, fancy houses and waited for it to be over like a bunch of cowards."

Neither woman answered her, but that was exactly what she expected.

"And by the way, my name is  _Rinoa."_

"Come on, Rin," Seifer said. "Let's go get that drink."

Waves of burning heat bled through her limbs, the magic yearned for release as Lacey's eyes gleamed bright with gleeful triumph. If Rinoa let go, she could destroy them... It would be too easy.

Seifer tugged on her arm and pulled her away from them. His arm slid behind her shoulders and he guided her toward the bar, his grip too firm but perhaps necessary. The separation grounded her, calmed her before she could do something stupid and dangerous.

At the bar, she ordered a pineapple juice on the rocks, Seifer tonic water. She could have used a stiff drink, but now was not the time. A clear head was best, and alcohol might only fuel her anger rather than calm it.

There was so much more that she could have said to them, but it still felt good to call them what they were. Cowards. Spoiled, vapid, ignorant cowards. And Rinoa was done. After tonight, assuming they caught whoever had done this, she would pack her belongings and leave. It didn't matter where she went, so long as she never saw these women again.

"Chill, Rin," Seifer said. "You're making your guests nervous."

Waves of heat boiled from her clenched fists, phantom flames feathered over her skin. She looked to Seifer and he gestured around them at the space the costumed guests had given her. No one stood within ten feet of them, but they watched and whispered to each other with fearful and suspicious gazes.

"Breathe," Seifer said. "Don't let it control you."

Rinoa's lips parted to snap at him but she forced them shut as the bartender slid her drink across the bar. She picked it up and lifted it to take a sip.

"Don't drink that!"

A hand swatted the drink out of her grasp and the glass went flying, the contents spilling across the bar. The glass hit the polished wooden parquetry and split apart into shards that went in all directions. Rinoa swiveled toward the offender and lifted her Shooting Star to attack. At her side, Angel gave a low growl of warning.

The offender was a young, dark haired man with wide, flinty eyes. He wore a caterer's uniform, but he was exceptionally familiar. She'd seen him before somewhere, but she couldn't place where. They had met before, but where?

He blinked a couple of times and his eyes flicked from Rinoa to Seifer. Seifer reached out to grab him, but the young man dodged Seifer's hand and darted off into the crowd.

"That kid knows something," Rinoa said. "Come on."

She grabbed Seifer's sleeve and tugged him into the crowd after the suspect. Angel yipped in excitement at this fun new game and led the way, heedless of the crowd. She darted between legs and into tight spaces as she tracked the boy ahead of her master.

Rinoa didn't hear what Seifer said into his headset, but she assumed he'd informed Squall. She elbowed her way through the crowd, half dragging Seifer behind her.

The young man disappeared through a side door near the kitchen, and Rinoa broke into a jog as the crowd thinned. She followed him into the hallway and arrived just in time to see him retreat into the kitchen. Angel followed close behind, barking happily all the way.

"I got him," Seifer said and dashed ahead of her.

He withdrew his weapon and skidded to a halt outside the kitchen doors. He burst into the room and bellowed at everyone to get down. It sounded more like a robbery than anything else.

Angel whined in agitation as Rinoa lifted her weapon and edged toward the doors. The dog wanted something to do, something exciting and Rinoa ran a hand over Angel's head to calm her.

There was a scuffle behind the kitchen door, a few angry shouts and the sound of a metal rack overturning. A moment later, Seifer returned to the hall, dragging the young man by the collar of his uniform. The young man's hands were cuffed behind his back and he winced as Seifer gave his arm a hard yank.

"Suspect apprehended," Seifer said into his headset. "Where are you, Leonhart?"

Rinoa leaned in to listen to Squall's response.

"Lily decided to crash the party," Squall growled. "I'll meet up with you in a few."

Squall was pissed and with good reason. He'd asked Lily to stay put, and she hadn't done it. Rinoa understood why. As a girl, she'd spied on her father's parties, just to feel like she was a part of the excitement. Any other time, it might not have been an issue, but right now it was too risky for her to be wandering around by herself. The last thing Rinoa wanted was for Lily to get hurt.

"Lemmie go," the young man complained. "I'm a SeeD. Lemmie go!"

"Not a very good one," Seifer said. He gave the young man's arm another hard yank. "Now, shut up."

"Let's take him in the head housekeeper's office," Rinoa said. "Two doors down, on the left."

The kid struggled as Seifer dragged him along, but his effort was wasted. Between the handcuffs and Seifer's grip, he didn't stand a chance. Rinoa opened the door to the office and Seifer pushed the young man roughly inside, forced him into a chair, and leaned down over him.

"Who the fuck are you?" Seifer demanded.

"My name's Blaise," the kid said. "I'm a SeeD from G-Garden."

"Yeah? What are you doing here?" Seifer asked. "Were you sent to assassinate Rinoa?"

"What? No..." the young man said. He shook his head and blinked at Rinoa. "I, um, I came on my own. I'm on leave, not on a mission."

"Why are you here?"

Rinoa looked the young man over. She took in his features and knew where she'd seen him before.

"You were at the DeLong's gala last week," Rinoa said. "Weren't you?"

Blaise nodded and bit his lip.

"Why?"

"I just wanted to get a look at you is all," he said.

"Why me? Because I'm a Sorceress?"

The boy blinked guiltily at his lap.

"Because..."

Rinoa knelt down in front of him and peered into his face. He wasn't just familiar because she'd seen him before. He was familiar because the shape and color of his eyes was the same as hers, the same as her father's.

"Because you're my brother?"

Blaise nodded at his knees.

"Look at me," Rinoa ordered.

The young man looked up and she saw more similarities. He had her father's mouth and jaw, and his hair was so dark brown, it was nearly black, just like hers. There was no question, this boy was her half-brother. The resemblance to her father, and to herself, was striking.

"Why did you spill my drink?" she asked.

"The bartender put funguar spore in it."

Rinoa sat back on her heels, pondering this.

"How do you know that's what it was?"

"I overheard the blonde you were talking to," he said. "She was arguing with another lady about it earlier, and then I saw her signal the bartender, he stirred in a pinch and I couldn't let them do it..."

"Bullshit," Seifer said.

Rinoa held up a hand. She needed him to be quiet. Blaise could have the information they needed to finish this.

"The blonde," Rinoa said. "The one in the Sorceress costume? Blue dress?"

"Yeah," Blaise said. "She and the other lady, they were talking about it in the hall with an old lady. The blonde said you had to be taken care of tonight."

"Describe the old lady," Rinoa said, though she already suspected who Blaise was talking about.

"Really old, and she had this weird hat on that looked like a lion head," he said.

Rinoa looked up at Seifer, pondering this. Lacey and Emelda? Was that possible? Lacey had always been the dumbest, most naive creature Rinoa had ever encountered, and Emelda had seemed like she was very much on Rinoa's side. Could the two of them be working together? If so, Rinoa didn't think Lacey had the brains to pull off something like this, at least, not by herself. Which meant Emelda must have been the mastermind.

That didn't add up. Why would the woman tell her Ian's secrets or talk about Danielle like she'd truly cared about her? Why reveal that she was a Sorceress? If Emelda was involved, why show her hand?

"Dincht," Seifer said into his headset. "Keep an eye on Emelda Fonatine and Lacey Kilroy. Let me know if either of them leave the ballroom."

Rinoa didn't know what to make of this information. If Emelda had duped her, she deserved an award for being the world's best actress. And if Lacey had pulled this off, so did she. The woman had everyone around her convinced she was vapid, stupid, and boring.

It didn't make sense. If he'd described Jackie and Miranda, Rinoa would not have questioned it.

"What did they say?"

"The old one told the young one that she was stupid and now wasn't the right time because you had too much protection," Blaise said. "Then the old lady said they wouldn't get away with it and that it would be better to go after your husband because that's what she wanted."

Rinoa looked up at Seifer again. He nodded his understanding. Maybe she wasn't so wrong in suggesting that this was more about Ian than it was about her. If Ian was the target, Rinoa hadn't a clue what the real motive might be.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Blaise said. "I wanted to find out what kind of person you were before I got involved."

"And you're a SeeD?" Rinoa asked. "Are you a ward or a boarder?"

"My adopted family didn't work out," Blaise said with a shrug. "They shipped me off to G-Garden. I've been there since I was seven."

"I'm sorry," Rinoa said. "I never knew."

He shrugged and something hard came into his eyes that reminded her of Squall, along with a certain shrewd aloofness that reminded her of her father.

"Not your fault," Blaise said. "You didn't know any more than I did."

"Hate to cut the family reunion short, but what else do you know, kid?" Seifer said.

"I know that they plan to kidnap and kill you," he said. "Tonight."

"Who?"

"The blonde lady, and her husband."

* * *

Squall kept his eye on Rinoa while he danced with Quistis, but he didn't mind listening to Quistis news about Selphie and Irvine and everyone else at Garden. He didn't miss the place, but sometimes he did miss the people and friends he'd made there. He did have friends in Balamb, not just the subordinates his damaged memory recalled.

A visit was overdue. Perhaps he'd take Lily to Balamb for the holidays instead of going to Esthar like he'd planned. It might be nice to let Lily spend some time with the closest thing to family she had. After all, Ellone had viewed all of them as her siblings. Even if they weren't blood related, they were his family.

It also served as a good distraction from how heated it had gotten with Rinoa. Squall hadn't intended for it to get so intense. He could deny it all he wanted, he still loved her and he still wanted her. Even through all the hurt and resentment and misunderstandings, the years of lost memory and anger, he loved her and that wasn't going to change, no matter how hard he fought it.

He didn't know what he was going to do once this was all over, and he didn't dare hope that she would be holding his hand when he left this job behind. Hope was a dangerous thing, given his history. Hope led to disappointment, and disappointment had the power to cripple him.

He was about to suggest they join Rinoa and Seifer over by the bar when he spied a familiar face peeking out from behind one of the fabric panels on the wall.

"Damn it," he muttered to himself. To Quistis, "Will you excuse me? I need to go kill my niece and then her babysitter."

"What?"

Squall pointed to where Lily peeked from behind the curtain, her eyes glittering as she watched a woman dressed as a peacock pass by.

"Would you like me to come with?"

"No, it's fine. I'll handle it."

Lily disappeared when she realized she'd been caught. Soft footfalls headed for the side door and Squall followed. He chased her down and grabbed hold of her arm as she tried to slip out. She looked up at him with a weary, resigned and very guilty expression. She was in trouble, and she knew it.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to see everyone's costumes!"

"I told you to stay put," Squall said. "Where's the babysitter?"

"On the phone with her boyfriend."

"Leonhart, we got a suspicious person," Seifer's voice barked in his ear. "Young male, approximately twenty, dark hair, dressed as serving staff."

"Detain him," Squall said. "I'll be there in a bit."

"I need you now," Seifer growled.

"I'm dealing with something important right now," Squall barked back. "I'll be there when I get there."

Lily and her safety were far more important to Squall than anything else going on around them. Whatever was going on in the ballroom could wait. He regretted not sending Lily to stay with Laguna as he herded her back toward the guest house and he quietly seethed over her choice to disobey his rules. If this didn't end tonight, he would send her to Esthar with Laguna until it was over whether she liked it or not. He couldn't and wouldn't risk her getting hurt, kidnapped, or killed.

"We'll discuss your punishment tomorrow," he said as he guided her out the door.

"Can we still go for pizza with Jake?"

"Probably not."

"That's not fair! All I did was look," she cried and yanked her arm away from him.

His patience was running out and he did not want to yell at her. In his anger, he knew he might say something that would stick with her, something that might hurt her in a way he didn't mean. He ground his teeth and bit back his irritation as he stopped walking, dropped down to one knee and put his hands on her shoulders.

His anger must have shown on his face. Lily flinched as though he'd hurt her, even though he hadn't, and she wouldn't look him in the eye.

"There's a reason I told you to stay put," he said. "The people that want to hurt Rinoa could try to hurt you, do you understand that?"

"Yeah, but -"

"It isn't a debate, Lily," he said. "I need you to follow directions without question."

"If it's so dangerous, why am I here?" she demanded.

"Because you begged me not to send you away."

Lily didn't have a come back for that. She bit her lip and cast her eyes away from him and then pulled herself from his grasp.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't think it was that big a deal."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow."

He found the door of the guest house unlocked and he held back a scathing lecture as he guided Lily inside. The living room was deserted, the babysitter nowhere to be seen. Lily flopped on the couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table, arms crossed to sulk.

She was just a kid, but she was a smart kid and she was capable of understanding his reasons. She'd done what she wanted anyway. They would address that issue in the morning, but for now he wanted to make sure she was going to stay put.

"Suspect apprehended," Seifer barked in his ear. "Where are you, Leonhart?"

Squall answered and then looked around for the babysitter. She wasn't in any of the rooms and the bathroom was unoccupied. He wondered if she'd gone looking for Lily when she'd noticed her missing.

"Dincht, is there a girl, college age, dark hair wearing a green cardigan anywhere on camera?"

"Gimmie a second to check, boss," Zell said.

On the couch, tears rolled down Lily's cheeks and Squall sighed. It wasn't fair that she had the power to make him feel horrible about enforcing rules, but of all times for her to decide to break them, she had to break them now.

"Lil, I'm not trying to be mean," he said. "This is for your own safety."

"...whatever."

"Don't see anyone like that," Zell said.

There was a sharp click behind him and as he turned, a bright flash of light. Something struck him hard in the side and a lick of fire lit up under his skin. It knocked the breath from his lungs and he struggled to get it back, but it was painful and accompanied by a curious gurgling sensation in his left lung. He pressed his fingers to his ribs and they came back wet and slick with blood.

He'd been shot.

On the couch, Lily screeched and scrambled away just as a second round tore through the left side of his back. His vision blurred and his head swam and he couldn't seem to make his mouth work in order to warn Lily or tell her where to go. He fell to his knees as darkness swam around the edges of his vision, but he reached for his pistol and used his remaining strength to turn and fire.

A crack rang out and Squall was knocked backward. His head smacked against the edge of the coffee table and his already blurred vision dissolved into a haze of shape and color. He coughed and tasted blood in the back of his tongue.

"I'm sorry Lily," he hissed. "Run."

* * *

The sound of gunshots from somewhere nearby interrupted Rinoa's interrogation of her half brother. Seifer, who sat on the edge of the desk trying to get a read on Blaise, shot to his feet and withdrew his weapon.

"Status," Seifer barked into his his headset. "Check in."

"Checking in," Zell's voice said. "Shots fired, east hallway. Can't see the suspect. Looks like a woman down."

"Everyone else, check in," Seifer demanded. "Now."

"Akon, checking in. Nothing to report."

"Damius, checking in. Confirming shots fired, east."

"Leonhart?" Seifer barked. "Leonhart, check in!"

Squall didn't answer. If he was fine, he would have been the first to respond. Something was wrong.

Rinoa's face had gone ashen. She sat on the floor, her back to the desk, shaking and her lips trembled as though she'd caught cold. That was more than enough evidence for Seifer. Squall was not all right.

"Rin, you gotta get up."

"He's hurt," she murmured. "Bad."

"I know, but you've got to get up, and come with me," he said. "Right now."

"What about me?" Blaise asked. "I'm a SeeD. I can help."

"I don't trust you as far as I can throw you, kid," Seifer said. He tossed the key to the cuffs into the boy's lap. "Get yourself unlocked and you can play ball. Otherwise, sit tight."

Seifer bent down and hauled Rinoa to her feet.

"East hallway," Seifer said. "Show me."

Rinoa slipped her own pistol out of its holster and racked the slide.

Seifer was no stranger to the cold, hard look in her eye. He'd encountered it in Edea's face more than once over the course of his Knighthood. It was wrathful anger, vengeance.

Her usually dark eyes burned a bright, gas-flame blue flecked with pale gold. Her Knight was in danger, and she would light the whole world on fire if Squall's injuries proved mortal. She had inherited an enormous amount of power, yet for years, she'd proved benign.

Until tonight.

Earlier, at the bar, her apparent anger had unsettled him. Now, as her bright eyes fell on him, Seifer was terrified. In this state, the world needed to be afraid of her and what she could do. There was more darkness in her than she let on, and for the first time, Seifer saw it plain as day in those bright blue eyes.

It was absurd to think of Squall dying. It didn't make sense. The man had lived through a shit-storm and had come out on the other side, fresh as a freaking daisy. Rinoa's behavior now indicated Squall's number might be up, impossible as it seemed.

She grabbed Seifer's sleeve and pulled him into the hall. All around them, people spilled out of the ballroom in a panic, screaming and crying and making such a racket, Seifer wanted to roar at them to shut the hell up.

Quistis stepped into the hall, and Seifer's heart gave a squeeze of relief as he saw her unharmed.

"What can I do to help?" she asked.

"Get all these morons outside," he said. "Front lawn, as far away from the house as you can. Nobody leaves."

"Understood," she said.

On his headset, he ordered Dincht to abandon the cameras and help Quistis manage the crazed, panicky party goers and told the other two to round up the stragglers. If they could keep the crowd under control, Seifer and Rinoa might be able to apprehend the suspects, find Squall and get him patched up before it was too late.

Quistis squeezed his arm and her eyes promised they weren't finished. He nodded back, a silent promise of his own.

He followed Rinoa down the hall and across the foyer. They had to fight their way through throngs of people, none of which seemed to know where to go. He shoved them out of the way without mercy, and cleared a path toward the long, deserted east hallway.

At the far end, a motionless figure lay sprawled on the floor. Even from a distance, Seifer could tell it wasn't Squall.

Rinoa dropped down beside the ancient woman on the floor and gave a soft cry. This had to be Emelda Fontaine, Matriarch of a banking empire. She was also the woman Blaise had described, dressed in a strange costume that could have been a lion but was now so bloodied, the only thing that gave it away was the headdress on the floor beside her.

"Emelda?" Rinoa whispered. "Emelda, wake up."

Seifer crouched beside her to check her pulse but didn't find one. The old woman's face was pale and there was a lot of blood. She'd been shot multiple times and was most likely dead.

But then, the woman slowly opened her eyes and Rinoa took her hand.

"Emelda," Rinoa said again. "Let me heal you."

"It's too late for that, darling," she said. "Take my magic, before someone else does."

"Who did this?" Rinoa asked. "Tell me."

"I was...trying to...protect you, dear," the woman croaked. "Only trying to..."

"Who did this?" Rinoa demanded. "I won't take your power until you tell me!"

"All of them dear," Emelda murmured.

"Ian too?" Rinoa asked.

"Not intentionally. Neglect... inaction... he could have done more."

"Names, Emelda!" Rinoa demanded. "I need names!"

"Those little bitches," Emelda said. "Lacey and her lot."

"Their husbands, too?"

"I don't know," Emelda said. "I was only trying to help you..."

"I believe you," Rinoa said.

Seifer stepped back as an electric blue fire swept over Rinoa's wings and skin, and he held his breath as the power of one Sorceress passed into another.

As if Rinoa needed this. As if she didn't have enough of a burden. But by being the receiver of the old woman's gifts, it saved the world from a potential tyrant. He could only imagine the demands a spoiled socialite might make upon the world.

Rinoa already possessed all the power from the future, but that didn't mean receiving from another wouldn't have an impact. Seifer hoped it wasn't the extra weight that cracked Rinoa's foundation. He hadn't a clue how it worked, if it compounded or canceled it out, but he was sure it would have some effect.

"You good, Heartilly?" he asked.

"Let's go find Squall," she murmured. "And call the police..."

As Seifer reached out to take her arm, there was a terrified and desperate voice in his ear.

" _Squall's been shot! If you can hear me, please help me! Help me, oh – shit!"_

Lily's scream cut short and Seifer froze.

"Lil?" he asked. "Answer me, Lil. Where are you?"

But Lily didn't answer.


	15. Chapter 15

 

 

 

 

Lily saw the man slide out of the shadows of the bedroom, but he aimed and fired before a single word of warning would come out of her mouth. She shrieked as the bullet struck Squall in the side and his face contorted and paled. A second shot opened up a wound between Squall's shoulder and collarbone. The bullet passed straight through and lodged in the headrest of the couch, inches away from the space Lily had just vacated.

 

“I'm sorry Lily. _Run_.”

 

As Squall fell, Lily grabbed the radio off the table and burst out the front door and into the night. She lifted the radio to her lips as she dashed around lounge chairs and tables, nearly tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and almost dropped the radio. .

 

“Squall's been shot! If you can hear me, please help me! Help me, oh – shit!”

 

From behind her came the sound of boots meeting concrete and her heart quickened in fear. Squall was down and they were after her now, just as he feared they would be.

 

Lily was no match for a grown man. Her only hope was that someone had heard her call.

 

As hands seized her from behind and pulled her backwards, she prayed that Seifer or Zell had heard her plea for help. She screamed into the radio but her scream was cut short as the attacker pried it from her fingers and tossed it into the pool.

 

Lily thought back to everything Squall and Seifer had taught her about how to get away from a kidnapper. The backyard lesson had been over a year ago, and a fun game at the time. Now, it seemed like the most important thing she'd ever learned.

 

“ _A kidnapper wants an easy target. Someone who will go quietly. Someone who won't fight back,” Squall said. “No matter how scared you are, you have to make it difficult for them. Fight as hard as you can to get free. Don't be afraid of hurting them.”_

 

“ _Be vicious, kid,” Seifer said. “Hit 'em in the soft spots. As hard as you can.”_

 

They'd let Lily practice various sucker punches on them, and showed her different techniques that even a kid could use to inflict damage on an attacker. In the back yard of Seifer's house in Deling City, they'd showed her how to throw elbows and knees and how to use the heel of her foot or hand to strike a hard, merciless blow to tender spots - nose, throat, sternum, and to press her thumbs into eyeballs.

 

Beating them up had been fun. To know that she could throw her elbow or lift her knee and hurt someone Seifer's size was pretty cool.

 

When she'd head-butted Squall and broke his nose Lily had cried. She hadn't meant to injure him for real, and she'd felt so bad about making him bleed, the game stopped being fun.

 

“ _Never feel bad about hurting someone who's trying to hurt you, Lil,” Squall said as he healed his wound. “Do whatever it takes. Fight back until they either give up or are injured or distracted enough that you can run away.”_

 

Lily never thought she'd ever need to use the techniques they'd showed her that day. She never thought she'd ever have to worry about anyone trying to kidnap or kill her. She'd thought that was just Squall being his usual over-protective self and not something she would ever have to face in real life. And now a stranger, for reasons she didn't know, had shot Squall, and now he was after her.

 

Whether he trying to kidnap her or kill her, she didn't know or care. All she knew was that she needed to get away, get somewhere safe and she was going to have to fight like hell if she wanted to get to safety. If she could get to safety, she could get help.

 

_Fight dirty, Lil. Aim for soft spots. Eyes. Groin. Nose. Windpipe._

 

She kicked her feet and flailed her arms. She couldn't afford to let the man get a hold of her, and if she could wound or stun him long enough to break free, she stood a chance.

 

A pair of arms locked around her waist and she shrieked, flung her head back and felt it connect with something that went _crunch_ under the force of her blow. Her attacker hissed in pain and let his grip on her go slack long enough for Lily to wiggle her way around to face him, but not enough to break free.

 

_Be vicious._

 

With both hands, she made a motion against the man's eyes like she was flicking water off her fingertips, then smashed the heel of her hand into the man's nose. The man let out a howl of pain and let go of her to press his hands over his eyelids and now bleeding nose. Lily dropped to the ground and on all fours, scrambled away while the man recovered.

 

He made a bid for her ankles and she kicked at him as she scooted away, shrieking at the top of her lungs in hopes of drawing someone's attention. The man got a hold of one of her legs and she kicked at him hard with the other. His gun was knocked out of his hand.

 

With a desperate, last-ditch effort, she leaned back and struck out at him with the heel of her foot and it smashed into his windpipe. He coughed, choked and Lily crawled backward to get away from him. Her hand landed on something cold and hard and her fingers curled around it in case she could use it as a weapon.

 

The gun.

 

Lily's already racing heart began to pound. Her throat tightened as she wrapped both hands around the firearm and without a second thought, lifted it and pointed it at him.

 

She took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut. She used both fingers to pull the trigger as he advanced on her. The recoil blew her backward and she let out a yelp when her head struck concrete, but she didn't waste any time assessing her injury.

 

The bullet missed, but it startled him enough that he was wary of her now. One hand outstretched, he urged her to put the gun down.

 

“Go fuck yourself,” she said in her best imitation of Seifer. To her own ears, she sounded a lot meaner than she felt.

 

“Goddman it kid. It isn't a toy.”

 

She got to her feet shakily and kept the gun pointed at his chest, then turned and sprinted toward the gate, screaming at the top of her lungs as she overturned chairs to block his progress and to make as much noise as she possibly could. All she wanted to do was get somewhere where adults were, somewhere safe so that she could send someone to help Squall. She didn't know if he was dead or alive and she would never forgive herself if he got killed because of her stupid mistake.

 

She tripped over a crack in the concrete deck and went sprawling. Her chin hit the concrete and split open, her palms scraped against the rough surface, but she rolled out of the way as her attacker made a dive for her. He hit the pavement hard but wasn't deterred. He was on her back as she pushed to her knees, and his hand seized her wrist as the other tried to pry the gun from her grip.

 

Lily's hold on it started to give way, and hot tears came to her eyes as she thought of Squall dying because she hadn't been able to break free. Squall was the closest thing to a dad she'd ever had, even before her mom had died. And if he died, where would she go? Laguna? Seifer? Garden?

 

That couldn't happen. Squall _couldn't_ die. Things were finally starting to get better. Getting up in the morning didn't hurt so much and facing the day wasn't as hard anymore. She'd stopped crying herself to sleep and she'd stopped staring at her mother's picture, wishing there was some way for her to come back. Losing Squall now was unthinkable and if that happened, Lily would be lost.

 

With one last desperate burst of energy, Lily threw her free elbow into the man's face, unaware that she was sobbing and screaming a the same time until both were cut short on impact. The man howled in pain and his grip eased, and Lily flipped over onto her back, wrapped both hands around the gun. She screamed again, wild with panic and she placed the muzzle against his chest and squeezed the trigger.

 

The blast was deafening and something hot and warm splashed her face and arms, and Lily started to sob. His body slumped against her, heavy and limp and she thrashed her way out from beneath him, shoved him away and got to her feet. Her skin grew cold and clammy and her stomach rolled as he slumped over into a dark puddle that grew steadily larger on the concrete deck.

 

She didn't want to think about what she had just done or how close she'd come to being hurt or taken away. All she could think about now was finding help for Squall. His radio was her best hope, and with the gun still in her grip, she sprinted back to the guest house.

 

He was where she'd left him, his face unnaturally pale, his eyes closed and there was a huge blood stain on the carpet beneath him. She unclipped the radio from his belt, depressed the button and pleaded for help.

 

Unsure of what to do, and too terrified to think straight, Lily shook Squall and slapped at his too-pale cheeks.

 

“You gotta wake up, Squall. Please. Please, wake up!”

 

What was she supposed to do? What had Squall taught her? Her memory was a blank, but she took a cue from movies and TV and felt his throat for a pulse and found nothing. She laid her head against his chest, where she though his heart was and did not hear anything at all. He wasn't breathing, his heart had stopped.

 

She got up and dashed to the bathroom and rooted around in the drawer for potions and anything else that might help. She found an antidote and a potion, took the potion and returned to the living room, dropped down and tried to remember what she was supposed to do.

 

A potion wouldn't work if his heart wasn't beating. Only a phoenix down or a life spell could do that, and Lily had neither. If Squall was going to have a chance, she had to get his heart started again for the potion to work. She had no idea how to do that. She'd never learned, so again, she relied on what she'd seen on TV. She was pretty sure none of that was real, but she had nothing to lose by trying.

 

“Don't die on me, okay?” she whispered as she straddled Squall's waist and placed her hands against his chest. “You're the only dad I've got, so you _can't die_ , okay? You _can't_. You can't leave me!”

 

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she laced her hands one over the other and began chest compressions. She counted them off like she'd seen in the movies, stopping in between sets to force a breath into his lungs. She did this again and again, and her muscles grew tired, but she was determined to make him live. He had to live. He _had_ to.

 

* * *

 

 

The moment Squall's heart stopped beating, it was as if Rinoa's had stopped too. She reached out for him across the bond, but there was nothing on the other side. Seifer grabbed hold of her as she sank to the floor, and a thin cry rose from her throat when he lifted her to her feet.

 

“Stay with me, Heartilly.”

 

“He's gone,” she murmured.

 

“Don't say that.”

 

She pressed a hand to her chest and nearly choked on the phantom taste of blood in her mouth.

 

“Come on,” Seifer said. “It can't be too late, and if it isn't, he needs you. So let's go.”

 

That was what she needed to hear. That it wasn't too late to bring him back. That he still had a chance, that it was still possible to save him.

 

“He's probably in the guest house with Lily,” Seifer said.

 

Fear for Lily almost paralyzed her. She would never forgive herself if Lily wasn't okay, either.

 

Seifer guided her into the foyer, which was full of panicked people milling about and unsure of what to do. Some wore strange, almost gleeful expressions and pawed at their costumes like they had never seen them before. Rinoa only half-processed how odd that was. The chaos and confusion made it hard to think and she scanned the room for the easiest way out. At her side, Angel whined and nudged at Rinoa's hand and she gave the dog a reassuring scratch behind the ear.

 

A blonde head and a pair of fake wings darted back into the ballroom and Rinoa's eyes narrowed. She didn't think about Squall or Seifer or anything else as she turned to follow Lacey. There was only a need for retribution in her heart as she pushed her way through the crowd. If Lacey was the reason all of this happened, then Rinoa would make sure she paid, with her life if need be.

 

The ballroom was nearly deserted when Rinoa stepped inside. The only people left were the three women who had made her life miserable for the last few years, plus Lacey's husband, Lance. Rinoa's breaths quickened, white-hot anger made her see nothing but red, and her fists clenched at her sides.

 

“There's too much going on to get a hold of her now, and the Lapdog won't leave her side,” Jackie Dumas said hotly. “What do you suggest we do?”

 

“Take him out,” Lacey said. “Leonhart's out of commission and the others are busy trying to herd the sheep to the lawn.”

 

Rinoa had never heard Lacey take that tone with anyone before. Nor had she ever heard the woman sound as though she actually had a brain in her head. Lacey had fooled everyone into thinking she was nothing more than a spoiled, rich brat with an insatiable love of designer shoes.

 

Rinoa had fallen for it, too. She'd never seen past the doe eyed naiveté or the clueless questions. Now, she saw not vapid innocence but a cruel and cold cunning. This was a smart woman, if not an entirely sane one, that had done a phenomenal job of hiding her true nature.

 

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Lance asked.

 

“A bullet to the brain should do the trick,” Lacey said.

 

Lacey produced a pistol and then tore the fake wings off her back.

 

To Rinoa's complete and total shock, a pair of inky blue-black wings that weren't _fake_ sprouted between her shoulders, and Rinoa sucked in a sharp breath in surprise. Only now did the cold cunning in Lacey's eyes make sense. She was dealing with a Sorceress who had come unhinged.

 

“Emelda was right,” Miranda said. “We should have just gone after Florian.”

 

“Not until that little bitch is out of the way,” Lacey said. “Besides, I need her power.”

 

“Lacey, this has gone too far,” Lance said. “Sure, we lost money but... think of the consequences.”

 

Lacey let out a bitter laugh and cocked the pistol.

 

“There won't be any consequences, once I mop up all the witnesses,” Lacey said. “With her power inside me, I can do anything I want.”

 

“There are about a hundred people who could have seen something,” Lance said. “You plan to kill them all?”

 

“The funguar spore should make any testimony they give inadmissible in court,” Lacey said. “It also makes them easy to control. I could tell them the sky was full of purple butterflies and unicorns and they'd swear that was exactly what they saw.”

 

“Lacey, let's just stop and think about this for a minute,” Lance pleaded. “No one was supposed to die.”

 

“You're wrong about that, darling.”

 

Lacey lifted her pistol, aimed and fired. Lance's head exploded in a mess of bone, blood and brain matter.

 

With both hands, Rinoa suppressed a shriek of surprise and horror as she watched Lance's body twitch, take two steps and then slump to the floor with a thud. The other two women's faces were full of horror and shock. Nearly half a minute passed before Miranda opened her mouth and began to scream.

 

Lacey lifted the pistol and aimed at the hysterical woman, her pale blue eyes as cold as the mountains of Trabia.

 

“Keep it up and you're next,” she said.

 

“You shot him,” Jackie said stupidly.

 

“Thank you, Princess Obvious,” Lacey said. “Poor Lance. As dumb as a bag of rocks and just as useless. Now shut your mouth. We need a plan.”

 

Rinoa took a deep breath and stepped out of the shadows. A cold fire swept over her skin and blazed through her veins like molten steel. She was going to end this, here and now, before Lacey killed someone else.

 

Three pair of eyes were on her as she moved into the light and Lacey turned the gun on her just as Rinoa lifted her own. At her heel, Angel let out a low growl.

 

“Get that dog out of here,” Lacey said. “Or I'll shoot it.”

 

“Shoot her and I'll put a bullet in your head,” Rinoa said calmly.

 

Lacey stared back at her, wings beating the air at her back. The truth, the real truth, clicked into place as Rinoa took in Lacey's face and the wings, and the subtle shimmer of power under her skin. It didn't explain everything, but it explained most of it.

 

“Cute,” Rinoa said. “Black looks good on you.”

 

All she got was a frosty, level stare in return.

 

“You wanted me, you got me,” Rinoa said. “So, let's do this.”

 

Lacey's expression didn't change at all when she lifted her hand and hurled a fireball at Rinoa's head. Rinoa ducked just in time to avoid it and returned fire with an ice shard out of Edea's playbook. It pierced the wooden floor at Lacey's feet, and Lacey jumped back in surprise. Rinoa sent two more, one from each hand to block Lacey's retreat. Another two saw the woman trapped in a makeshift cage of ice.

 

Lacey's cry of rage brought a smile to Rinoa's face, and a pleasant, warm sensation filled her chest. Cruelty did not come naturally to Rinoa, but her insides trembled with a delicious hunger for vengeance, a need for blood Rinoa had never felt before. She was full of wrath and hatred that on one hand unsettled her, and on the other, energized her.

 

Lacey's hand lifted to cast another spell but Rinoa hit her with Stop before she could complete it. In her ice cage, Lacey halted mid-cast, her face twisted and contorted with madness. Though Lacey clearly had some practice casting, she was not as powerful nor as experienced as Rinoa. A weak, unpracticed Sorceress would be much easier to deal with, though it might also make her unpredictable.

 

Rinoa lowered her pistol and looked at the other two women, both wide eyed with fear and shock.

 

“Are either of you armed?”

 

Both shook their heads.

 

“Good. Sit down. On the floor.”

 

They sank to the floor, yards of fabric around them like ridiculous, beaded nests.

 

“Put your hands where I can see them.”

 

Both women obeyed without a word. Miranda was still crying, and Jackie looked as if someone had slapped all the sense out of her. Dumb, bovine eyes stared back at Rinoa and blinked stupidly like she didn't know where she was or what had just happened.

 

“One of you start explaining. Right now.”

 

Neither spoke for several seconds. Jackie blinked away her confusion and cast her eyes to the floor as Miranda sat there and cried.

 

“It was just supposed to be a joke,” Jackie said. “Something to scare you off, but then... I didn't know what this was really about and if I had, I never would have played along. I swear to you, I didn't know she was going to take it this far!”

 

“You didn't know?” Rinoa asked, doubtful. “Five people died, and you didn't know?”

 

“We didn't know anything until after it happened,” Miranda gushed. “They were just supposed to grab you and give you a little scare. That's all. We didn't know she had the real security staff killed, or your maid!”

 

“I wish I could believe that,” Rinoa said. She moved closer to the cage of ice to look at Lacey. “Did you know what she was?”

 

“Yes,” Jackie said. “We knew.”

 

“She killed Danielle!” Miranda moaned. “She killed her! That's how she got her power and that's why she wants yours. She wants all the power. Danielle wasn't enough.”

 

“I thought this was about money,” Rinoa said. She turned back to Miranda and Jackie. “Lacey said -”

 

“That's part of it,” Jackie said. “But not all of it.”

 

“Tell me everything.”

 

“It's about Florian,” Miranda said. “She wanted him.”  


Rinoa's hunch earlier had been right. It was about Ian, but she didn't understand why. If it was just about money, it made more sense to go after the man himself. It wasn't as if he could have fought back. A man in a wheelchair was easy prey. Rinoa was not.

 

“So, the Kilroy's lost money on the Timber deal?” Rinoa asked.

 

“They lost everything,” Jackie said. “Lance invested heavily in Galbadia's plan to revitalize the forests. If Timber had remained part of Galbadia, he would be looking at a huge pay out in the next five to ten years once the lumber mills started up again. But, when Timber became an independent nation again, the agreement was that all lands and assets on those lands belonged to the Timberian Government, regardless of how it got there. Meaning, Lance lost his shirt.”

 

“That wasn't very smart,” Rinoa said. “To invest everything. He had to have known Timber wasn't a sure bet.”

 

In the ice cage, Lacey began to stir. Rinoa hit her with another Stop spell to keep her quiet and reinforced the cage with a few more spears before returning her attention to the women on the floor.

 

“That's the thing, he didn't think Timber would ever become independent,” Jackie said. “Like a lot of people, he thought it was a silly pipe dream and Galbadia would never give it up. They made too much money off the taxes.”

 

“Well what a shame,” Rinoa said unsympathetically. “My heart aches for his stupidity.”

 

“Smart business decisions were never his strong suit,” Jackie said.

 

“So, they lost all their money and blamed it on me and Florian?”

 

Rinoa sat down on the floor in front of them. Angel came to sit beside her and Rinoa reached over to scratch the dog behind the ears.

 

“Lance did,” Jackie said. “Lacey had her own reasons.”

 

“How does Danielle factor into this. Lacey was, what, twelve at the time?” Rinoa asked. “How could she have killed Danielle if she was just a kid?”

 

“She's older than you think,” Miranda said. “She says she's twenty seven, and she looks twenty five but she's older than you.”

 

“How old?”

 

“Thirty five,” Miranda said. “She's had a bit of work done...”

 

If that was true, then Rinoa supposed Lacey could have been responsible for Danielle's death. She still would only have been about sixteen or seventeen at the time, but speaking from experience, there was a lot a girl that age could accomplish if she put her mind to it.

 

“Why would she want Danielle dead?”

 

“She was in love,” Jackie said. “Or thought she was.”

 

“With Florian?”

 

“With Florian,” Jackie confirmed. “She was convinced Florian would have married her if not for Danielle. He was kind to her, and she mistook his kindness for love. Everyone tried to tell her, but she wouldn't hear it. After the accident, we all thought she lost interest.”

 

Lacey had never once let on she had any interest in Ian or anything he did. She couldn't even recall a time when the two had spoken outside of casual, polite conversation. Then again, Lacey had convinced Rinoa and everyone around her that she was a stupid woman with an empty designer handbag for a brain, so maybe hiding her apparent obsession wasn't as much of a stretch as it sounded.

 

“And then, he met and married me...” Rinoa said. “And she wanted me out of the way?”

 

“The fact that you were a Sorceress too, well, she saw it as an opportunity to get what she wanted. With power like that, she could do anything she pleased, control anyone, go anywhere... She also believed it would make her more attractive to Florian.”

 

“Wow,” Rinoa said. “Why didn't she just use her power?”

 

“She had to hide it. If she didn't, Florian would know what she did to Danielle. It was easier for her manipulate people by playing the dumb, cute princess,” Jackie said. “Don't get me wrong, her power is impressive, but she's not you.”

 

“What about Emelda?”

 

“She wasn't involved,” Miranda said. “I don't know how she knew about it, but she knew and she tried to stop us and Lacey just went crazy and started screaming at her, knocked her down and shot her.”

 

Miranda was near hysteria. Rinoa might have had some sympathy for her if not for the fact that she'd participated in this ridiculous farce.

 

“Lacey didn't know Emelda was a Sorceress, too?”

 

“What?”

 

“Okay, that answers that question,” Rinoa said. “What about the Descendants of Hyne?”

 

Jackie started laughing.

 

“All that's just a joke,” Jackie said. “Nobody believed in it.”

 

“Lacey believes it,” Miranda chimed in. “The generation before us was really into it, and some people still are, but no one can agree on what it's supposed to be about.”

 

“She already has a few followers,” Jackie said guiltily. “The two of us and a few others, but...”

 

“Who are the others?”

 

“Mostly kids. College age,” Jackie said. “She planted one or two in your housekeeping staff.”

 

“Which ones?” Rinoa demanded.

 

“One of your kitchen staff, and the girl that died.”

 

Rinoa shook her head in denial. She couldn't believe that Marilee had bought into the whole thing, that she would follow these three witches, for any reason. The only way Rinoa saw that was if Marilee had been offered something in return, money perhaps. Sadly, it was possible that she hadn't been able to refuse.

 

“Anyway, she borrowed a lot from the old cults,” Jackie said. “The hearts, the passages and poems. It all came from the old Centran ways, back when the Centrans worshiped the Sorceress. Lacey wanted it to be like that. She wanted the whole world to bow to her. She thought she deserved it.”

 

“And the funguar spore?” Rinoa asked. “I take it she drugged all my guests?”

 

“She wanted tonight to be total chaos,” Jackie said. “That way, there were no reliable witnesses. Steven was supposed to take out the SeeDs one by one. Lacey hadn't planned on Almasy being here or that boy on the catering staff.”

 

She meant Blaise. No one had expected him, but thank Hyne for it. Had he not been paying attention, Rinoa would be under the influence, out of her mind and unable to defend herself. Anger roiled in her stomach as she processed the information.

 

“Why did you go along with this?” Rinoa asked.

 

“Like I said, we thought it was just to scare you,” Jackie said. “Once we figured out Lacey had other plans, it was too late. If she went down, we were going with her. She gave us no choice.”

 

Rinoa frowned again. If she was supposed to feel sorry for them, she didn't. Both of them deserved her wrath for participating and for making her fear for her life and her safety. They deserved to suffer.

 

“Why would you want to scare me?” Rinoa asked. “Why do you hate me so much?”

 

“My mother was killed by Adel,” Jackie said. “She died horribly.”

 

“I'm not Adel.”

 

“You took her power,” Jackie said. “Lacey convinced me that meant you would become like Adel in time.”

 

“I'm not Adel,” Rinoa said again, more firmly. “I'm sorry about your mother, but her death is not an excuse to kill me.”

 

“I didn't want you dead.”

 

“You obviously didn't care if I lived,” Rinoa said.

 

She got to her feet and wiped her hands on her duster. She took a deep calming breath, but the air was tinged with the scent of blood and spilled wine and she almost choked on it. She reached out for Squall again, but there was no response from the other side, just an empty nothing.

 

Tears spilled down her cheeks and she fought to maintain control, though every cell in her body screamed for her to decimate these three for what they'd done. Squall was dead. They deserved every bit of pain an suffering she could inflict upon them.

 

“Angel, guard,” she instructed.

 

The dog moved closer to the two women, growled and paced circles around them. Miranda flinched in fear, but Jackie just turned her eyes to the floor.

 

In her ice cage, Lacey stirred, sluggish and dull eyed as the tried to shake off the Stop spell. The ice had begun to melt, but Rinoa didn't replace it. Squall was dead because of her. His heart had stopped beating, because of her. From this point forward, Rinoa had nothing left to lose.

 

What little control Rinoa had slipped away from her and she didn't fight to keep it this time. She would become wrath and vengeance and make sure Lacey paid the price. She would take Lacey's power, her life, and whatever consequence there was for that, Rinoa would accept it.

 

She reached through the ice bars and took Lacey's pistol. Everything in her wanted to put it against the struggling woman's head and pull the trigger. Tears of rage burned behind Rinoa's eyes as she tried to reach Squall one last time and found that empty space again.

 

Rinoa had never liked killing. She'd regretted it more often than not, but for the first time in her life, Rinoa wanted to make someone suffer.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Seifer pushed his way through the confused people milling about in the foyer and yelled at them to go outside. On the other side of the room, Quistis ushered them out one by one. In their panic and mindlessness, the majority wandered about like lost sheep, their interest focused on strange things, like the patterns in the wallpaper and the sheen of the marble floor.

 

“Dincht, Trepe could use some help getting these morons outside.”

 

“I'm already outside, trying to get them to stay on the damned lawn,” Zell said. “Half of them are acting like they got a hold of some Funguar seeds or whatever.”

 

Seifer wouldn't be surprised if they had. It would explain why these idiots didn't show any urgency when their safety was at risk, and why they seemed confused about where they were.

 

“Rin, do some magic or something. We gotta get them out of here.”

 

He turned toward her, but she wasn't there. He cursed under his breath and looked around for her, but she was nowhere to be found. He wasn't sure when she'd taken off, but he was officially concerned. No good could come of Rinoa wandering off on her own. He assumed she'd gone off to find Squall on her own. A dangerous choice, but not unexpected.

 

From somewhere further inside the house was a gunshot. It echoed through the foyer and cries of fear rippled through the confused party patrons. Yet most of them seemed lost and unsure of where to go, in spite of the open front door.

 

“Okay, you assholes!” Seifer called above the noise. “Follow the nice lady in red outside, unless you wanna get shot!”

 

When they didn't move, he lifted his pistol in the air and fired at the ceiling.

 

“MOVE IT!” he roared. “OUTSIDE, NOW! CHOP, CHOP, ON THE DOUBLE, _RIGHT FUCKING NOW_!”

 

That got them moving. The majority of them rushed the door and Quistis' frown of disapproval might have been funny if everything wasn't so chaotic.

 

“I'm hearing gunshots,” Zell said in his ear. “What's going on in there?”

 

“Second one was me,” Seifer said. “Can't vouch for the first one, but Rin's gone rogue, so who the fuck knows. Can you break away?”

 

“Are you kidding?” Zell asked. “These people are eating grapes off the lawn ornaments. I'd have better luck trying to herd a thousand feral cats into a pool. If I leave 'em, they're all going to wander straight off the cliff.”

 

Seifer was surprised into a laugh at Zell's colorful description.

 

“Well,” Seifer drawled. “Good luck with that.”

 

“I could use your help,” Zell said.

 

“I know you could, but you're not getting it,” Seifer said. “Gotta find Rin before she starts firebombing.”

 

“No word on Squall?”

 

“Not from him personally.”

 

“ _Hey, get the hell off that, you nutbag!_ ” Zell yelled in his ear. “This is some shit out here, man. Keep me posted. I'll let the lunatics run the asylum if you need me that bad.”

 

Laguna Loire popped his head in the door and glanced around. The man looked uncharacteristically serious for a change and Seifer waved him over.

 

“Naw, just stay put. I'm gonna send Loire out,” Seifer said as he herded the last of the stragglers to the door. “I'm sure he can help you entertain them for a while.”

 

“Ten-four.”

 

“Hey,” he barked at Laguna, “you game to lend a hand? Or are you high, too?”

 

“Sober as a diplomat,” Laguna said. Seifer frowned because he didn't know what that meant. “Put me to work. What do you need?”

 

“Give Dincht a hand on the front lawn,” Seifer said. “Keep 'em busy. Do whatever you gotta do, just make sure they stay put.”

 

Laguna's grin was terrifying. Seifer didn't even want to imagine what kind of ridiculous scheme he was cooking up to keep a bunch of stoned, rich losers entertained until they could get the situation under control.

 

“Got you covered,” Laguna said with a wink.

 

Seifer turned to Quistis, who frowned up at him like she was about to chew him out. He grinned at her anyway, remembering all the times she'd looked at him like that in class.

 

“Was that really necessary?”

 

“They're all fucked up on funguar spore,” he said. “So, yes. It was necessary.”

 

“Oh,” Quistis said. “That explains a lot.”

 

Seifer peered at her pupils, just to make sure she hadn't ingested any. They were normal shape and size, and there was no sign she was under the influence. Satisfied, he took her face in his hands.

 

“Just so you know, I love you.”

 

Then, he leaned in and gave her a peck on the lips. He didn't have much time to say what he wanted to say, but he needed to say it, right now.

 

“If you want me to, I'll sell my share of the business to Fujin and move to Balamb.”

 

“Seifer-”

 

“Think about it. Get back to me,” he said. “Gotta go find Rin.”

 

“I'll come with you,” she said. “In case you need back up.”

 

“You armed?”

 

“No, but I'm junctioned.”

 

“Good enough.”

 

The ballroom was empty, save two women being guarded by Rinoa's dog, Angel. Seifer figured there was a reason for this and left them where they were. There was no sign of Rinoa anywhere, but there was a huge puddle of water on the floor and a man absent a face. He wanted to gag at the sight of congealed blood and bits of brain, but he forced himself to look away from the mess.

 

“Did Rinoa do this?” he asked the two women.

 

“No.”

 

“Where did she go?”

 

“After Lacey.”

 

“Which door?”

 

They pointed to the door that led to the kitchen hallway.

 

“Come on,” Seifer said and took Quistis' hand.

 

As they stepped into the hallway, he nearly ran straight into the kid who claimed to be Rinoa's brother. The boy dropped into a fighting stance and lifted his fists. There was a lot of Rinoa in the boy's expression, and Seifer felt an unexpected fondness for the kid, in spite of how little Seifer trusted him.

 

“Relax,” Seifer said. “Ain't me you need to worry about.”

 

The boy dropped his fists and reached into his pocket for something. He tossed the set of handcuffs at Seifer along with the keys.

 

“I'm ready to play ball,” he said. “What can I do to help?”

 

“Front lawn,” Seifer said. “Dincht could use a hand rounding everyone up.”

 

“Instructor Dincht's here?” Blaise asked.

 

“Yeah, you know him?”

 

“I know him,” Blaise said. “I took summer classes with him in Balamb. Best instructor I ever had.”

 

“Well then, move out, kid.”

 

“Yes, sir,” the kid said and hurried off down the hall.

 

“Who was that?” Quistis asked.

 

“Long story,” Seifer said. “Come on. Gotta find Rin.”

 

As Seifer headed down the hall, a panicky voice came over the radio.

 

“Can anyone hear me? Squall needs help! Please, help me!”

 

It was Lily. Seifer was so relieved to hear her voice, he grabbed hold of the door frame and leaned his head against it.

 

“I hear you, kiddo,” Seifer said. “Where are you?”

 

“The guest house. Squall's... I think he's dead. He's not breathing,” she said. “Help me, please. Please come help me!”

 

Seifer pressed a hand to his eyes as a painful lump formed in his throat.

 

“I'll be right there, kid. Just hang in there, okay?”

 

Seifer didn't know how long it had been between Lily's first call for help and now, but it seemed like forever. They really didn't have much time if Squall was in really bad shape or his heart had stopped beating. There was a very short window for reviving someone without a pulse. If it had been too long, no amount of magic would bring Squall back.

 

He would have to put Rinoa aside for now. She was alive, she was pissed, armed to the gills and had the power of Hyne knew how many Sorceresses behind her. She would be fine on her own. Squall would not be if they waited any longer.

 

“Change of plan,” Seifer said to Quistis as he righted himself. “Guest house.”

 

As they crossed the back lawn toward the house, Seifer saw the door was wide open. Even from where he stood, he could hear Lily pleading with Squall to live. Seifer broke into a sprint and Quistis kicked off her heels and followed close behind.

 

On the pool deck, a man lay face down in a puddle of blood. He wore dark clothing and had dark hair, but Seifer knew just by looking at him, it wasn't Squall. He let out a breath of relief as he skirted the body and headed for the house. They would figure out who he was later.

 

Inside, Lily was crouched over Squall, trying desperately to revive him. Her face was a mess of tears and blood. She was covered in it, her arms and clothing spattered with blotches of red that Seifer could not immediately identify the source of. Aside from a scrape on her chin, Lily didn't appear to be too banged up, but that much blood on a kid was a cause for worry.

 

“Squall, breathe! Please, please, please! Breathe!” Lily cried. “Please, you can't leave me!”

 

The fragile hope that Squall was fine dissolved as Seifer moved into the living room and dropped down beside his fallen friend. When Lily looked up at him, she burst into a long, howling sob that ripped Seifer's heart straight out of his chest.

 

“His heart stopped,” she moaned. “I can't get it to go again!”

 

Seifer scooped her into his chest and held her tight against him. He almost lost it himself as she began to sob in earnest into his shoulder.

 

“He can't die! He can't!” she wailed. “Fix him!”

 

Seifer almost lost it himself at the sound of Lily's sorrow. He squeezed his burning eyes shut and forced back tears of his own. He could fall apart later, when he was alone. Not now, while Lily needed him to be strong, not while there was still a chance to revive Squall.

 

“Shhh, it's okay, Lil,” he breathed into Lily's hair. “Quis, please tell me you've got a Full-Life.”

 

She nodded and knelt down to assess Squall's injuries. Her face was grim as she shot Seifer a look and gave her head a little shake.

 

“Please help him,” Lily whimpered. “He can't leave me!”

 

“Quis is gonna take care of him,” he said. “He'll be fine, kid. Just give her a minute, okay?”

 

Seifer said it, but he wasn't so sure it was true. From the looks of things, it might be too late.

 

Poor kid. She'd already been through so much. It would kill her if she lost Squall, too. Seifer held her tighter and stroked her hair, trying to offer whatever comfort he could, even though he knew it wasn't enough.

 

“I don't have anywhere to go if he dies,” Lily murmured into his chest.

 

“Shhh,” he said again. “He'll be okay. I promise you won't be alone, Lil. I promise you, okay? I won't let that happen.”

 

If it came down to it, Seifer would take her in, no questions asked. He would fight tooth and nail so she wouldn't have to go through being shuffled around from place to place or stuck in a boarding school somewhere. She didn't deserve that, and he didn't want that for her.

 

“Any day now, Quis,” Seifer said.

 

Quistis' hands shook as she cast her magic. The tears in her eyes betrayed her stern focus, and Seifer held his breath as Squall was enveloped in the shimmery light of Quistis' magic. Lily stopped sobbing to watch with wide, scared eyes. Her whole body trembled in Seifer's arms and he could feel her racing heartbeat against his chest.

 

Nothing happened for several long, torturous seconds.

 

Then, Squall sat up and sucked in a sharp, deep breath. His eyes snapped wide open and he began to cough violently. He was scary-pale, but breathing and Seifer dropped his head against Lily's, took a deep breath of his own and closed his eyes in relief.

 

Squall was alive.

 

* * *

 

 

As the magic did its job, Squall's chest and side burned like fire and he could scarcely breathe as his throat and chest constricted in panic. The last thing he remembered was the man in the shadows, a man he recognized, and he'd been unable to retaliate. He took slow, shallow breaths as the pain eased and glanced around in to ensure they were actually safe.

 

It hurt when Lily threw herself at him and began to sob hysterically into his neck, but this was pain Squall didn't mind. He put his arms around her, tucked her against him and let her cry as much as she needed to. Whatever had happened in the time between then and now, whatever state he'd been in, it must have been ugly.

 

She didn't need to tell him how close he'd come to being the next person to leave her. He could hear it in her sobs and see it in Seifer's face and in the amount of blood staining the carpet. No wonder Lily clung to him, crying her heart out into his shoulder.

 

Squall wanted to promise her that he was okay, that she was okay, but breathing was hard and words even harder, so he held her tighter and let her cry it out.

 

“I'm sorry I snuck out, and I'm sorry I didn't listen,” Lily sobbed. “This is all my fault and I had to kill that guy and I'm so sorry you got hurt! It's all my fault, and I'm sorry!”

 

Had he misheard her? She had to kill who? And... how? He peeled her away from his shoulder and swept strands of hair away from her tear streaked face. Her mouth trembled and she sniffled and shook as fresh tears poured down her flushed cheeks.

 

“You had to what?” he croaked.

 

“I killed him,” she said plaintively. “I shot him. I didn't want to! I had to, and I'm sorry...”

 

Stunned and horrified, Squall stared at his niece. He took in the blood splattered over her arms and face, and the blotches that stained her shirt. Her chin was cut open and there were scrapes on her palms and bruises twined around her wrists.

 

“You killed the guy that shot me?” Squall asked.

 

Her face crumpled and she nodded as she began to sob again. Squall's heart gave a ferocious and painful throb as he pulled her against his chest and wound his arms tight around her slight body. Angry tears welled up in his own eyes as he rocked her back and forth and stroked her back and hair to comfort her.

 

She was too young for this. Way, way too young and he was furious with himself for not following his first instinct to get her as far away from this mess as possible.

 

“I'm so sorry, Lil,” he murmured into her hair. “I'm sorry you had to do that.”

 

“I didn't want to,” she swore. “He just kept coming after me and he was trying to take me and I didn't want you to die...”

 

“I know,” he said. “It's okay, I promise, it's okay now.”

 

“They're going to take me to jail,” she whimpered. “Aren't they?”

 

“No, they're not,” Squall promised. “They won't take you to jail.”

 

“But I killed him.”

 

“Shh,” he said. “Nobody's taking you anywhere, Lil. You're safe now. You're safe.”

 

There was an uncharacteristic amount of empathy in Seifer's face as Squall looked up at him. He hadn't known Lily had killed to stay alive, and he was just as stricken by the news as Squall. Seifer wiped a hand over his face, covered his mouth for a second, and his gaze softened as his eyes fell on Lily.

 

“Poor kid,” Seifer muttered.

  
“Where is he?” Squall asked. “In here?”

 

“Pool deck,”Seifer said. “Didn't check to see if he was alive.”

 

“Almasy, cops are here,” Zell's voice said over the radio. “Where do we want them?”

 

“We got one dead in the east hall, one in the ballroom and another by the pool,” Seifer said. “Two suspects have been detained in the ballroom, another on the run. They can start wherever the hell they feel like it.”

 

“Squall and Lily okay?”

 

“They're breathing,” Seifer said.

 

“Oh, thank Hyne,” Zell said.

 

“Have the crowd sit tight,” Seifer said. “Nobody goes anywhere, I don't care how loud or pissed they get. They're all suspects.”

 

“Yeah, roger that,” Zell said. “They're not going anywhere. Laguna's got them all singing show tunes. They seem to like it.”

 

Squall didn't even want to know the why or how of it and he didn't have the energy or desire to ask.

 

Quistis knelt down beside Squall and offered him a glass of orange juice. He took a few swallows and passed the glass to Lily.

 

“Where's Rin?” he asked.

 

The answer to his question came in the form of a loud, violent explosion from inside the main house. The floor beneath him vibrated and the windows rattled. He shot to his feet and instantly regretted it. Dizziness washed over him and he slipped back to the floor as he began to cough violently.

 

“I got it,” Seifer said. “Stay here with Lil.”

 

Squall shook his head and struggled to his feet again. A sharp spike of rage boiled up in him as a second explosion split the night. The rage was not his, but Rinoa's.

 

“You can come with, but I'm going,” Squall said.

 

“No!” Lily cried. “Don't leave me again!”

 

“...Lil,” he said. “Let me finish this so we can go home.”

 

“Please,” she begged. “Please don't go.”

 

He dropped down on one knee and hugged her tight.

 

“I promise you, I'll come back.”

 

She buried her face in the crook of his neck and he wished to Hyne he could stay. He knew his promise wasn't good enough, but he would do whatever it took to keep it.

 

“Stay with Quistis, okay? Let her patch you up,” he said. “I'll be back once this is done.”

 

“You better come back,” she said as she let him go. “I'll hate you forever if you don't.”

 

“I love you, Lil,” he swore. “I'll come back.”

 

Tears spilled down her cheeks and Squall wiped them away with his thumbs.

 

Squall stood and wiped a hand over his eyes. He sensed a surge in Rinoa's fury, but he couldn't get a handle on what had caused her to lose control.

 

“We gotta go,” Seifer said. “House is on fire.”

 

Squall picked up his pistol and passed it to Quistis.

 

“Hang onto this for me. Just in case.”

 

Quistis set it on the coffee table and gathered Lily to her.

 

“You better come back, too,” she said to Seifer.

 

“Count on it,” Seifer said.

 

Squall followed Seifer out to the pool deck. Weak light from the deck lamps spilled across a figure sprawled face down on the concrete. Squall paused to stare down at the man's face and gave him a nudge in the ribs.

 

Steven had been right there under their noses, in front of them the whole time and he hadn't stood out as suspicious, though he'd liked to linger. The young man was definitely dead. Lily had shot him point blank in the chest.

 

That hurt to think about. How scared and afraid she must have been. Evidence of the fight she'd put up was scattered all over the deck, overturned chairs everywhere. Squall couldn't let himself think too hard about the consequences of this, but it was bound to leave scars. A thing like this would leave the kind of scars that took a long, long time to heal.

 

“That's one brave kid you got there, Leonhart,” Seifer said as Squall turned away from the body. “Looks like she gave this guy hell.”

 

“She never should have had to.”

 

A third explosion blew out the windows on the second floor where Rinoa's bedroom was located. Flames licked out one of the windows and smoke billowed toward the sky. Squall pushed back his worries about Lily and readied his gunblade.

 

That invisible link between himself and Rinoa told him she was fine, but her rage was infecting him. It had been building for the last few minutes and now it beat a steady crescendo in his chest like a war drum. Though he wasn't fully healed, he had enough strength to lend whatever support she might need.

 

_I'm on my way, Rin. I'm coming._

 

The first floor hallway was filled with smoke. Squall tried not to breathe it in as he crouched below it and followed Seifer toward the foyer. Evidence of a brutal fight spread across the marble floor, a trail of destruction in Rinoa's wake. Decorative vases and flowers spilled from one end of the room to the other. The massive chandelier hung askew and all the paintings and mirrors had been knocked to the floor, frames bent and twisted, the canvases ripped. This was the consequence of Rinoa's wrath.

 

Smoke billowed out of the ballroom. Inside, the sheets of fabric that hung along the walls were ablaze, bright tongues of flame licked toward the ceiling and left char marks on the ornate wooden cornices and scroll work. Inside, Angel whined and paced restlessly around two women who sat on the floor. Both were too afraid of the dog to get up. One had a bleeding wound on her arm that was most likely a result of Angel's teeth.

 

“Take care of them,” Squall said to Seifer. “Get them outside and then meet me upstairs. Angel, stay.”

 

Angel obeyed the command and accepted Seifer's pat on the head with a wag of the tail.

 

“Come on, ladies,” Seifer said. “I'll introduce you to a few handsome men in uniform. Hope you look good in stripes.”

 

Like Squall, Seifer judged the reason Angel had been left to guard them to be because they were suspects. Squall didn't care one way or another what they were, he needed to find Rinoa, now.

 

An enraged shriek echoed from somewhere above and Squall bolted up the staircase. In the family wing, the carpet was ablaze in a few places, and he pressed his arm over his mouth and nose in hopes of filtering some of the smoke. It didn't help much and his eyes began to water as he crept down the hallway to the partially open door of Rinoa's former bedroom.

 

From inside came the sounds of things breaking and just as he approached the door, it was blasted back on its hinges by a sizzling bolt of lightning. It flared and sparked around the frame and along the walls in either direction. Squall jumped back as a tendril snaked up over his boot and onto his pant leg.

 

“Nice try,” Rinoa said. “A for effort, but you have to do more than that to hurt me.”

 

A second bolt lit up the room and Rinoa deflected with an easy swipe of her hand. The bolt blazed along the walls like brilliant blue spiderwebs and for a second, Rinoa's face was the cruelest thing Squall had ever seen. There was nothing of the girl he'd loved in her profile, and he sensed she was on the verge of turning.

 

Rinoa glanced back at him as she sensed his presence and her hard expression softened for an instant. She turned, just as Gravija spell hit her. She went down with a howl of pain and Squall wasted no time, going on the offensive with his blade ready to strike the woman half shrouded by flames and smoke on the other side of the room. He swung and pulled the trigger as he made contact. She gave a cry of pain as he savagely withdrew his blade from her gut and readied for another.

 

“Better,” Rinoa said to the woman with approval. “That actually hurt a little.”

 

“I'm not going to give up,” the woman said.

 

Lacey Kilroy? Of all people, she was the least likely of suspects. Squall had judged her smarter than she let on, but this was not the pepatrator he'd suspected. He stepped back in surprise, but kept his blade at the ready should she attack Rinoa again.

 

“Of course not,” Rinoa said. “Because that would be the rational thing to do.”

 

“You took everything from me,” the woman spat. “You and Danielle took everything from me and I won't stop until I take it all back.”  


“You want Ian?” Rinoa asked, “you can have him, sweetheart.”

 

She slid over to Squall and shoved her hand inside his jacket. He almost pushed her away in surprise, but she retreated as quickly as she'd arrived. Something glittered in her palm and Squall remembered the wedding ring he'd taken off her finger. He'd completely forgotten about it and it seemed like he'd done it weeks ago and not a few hours before.

 

Rinoa tossed the ring at Lacey Kilroy as flames roared up behind them in the hallway. The diamond hit Lacey in the chest, sparkling amber in the light. The ring hit the floor and Lacey made a dive for it.

 

From somewhere below came a roar as the blaze found new fuel. The temperature in the room increased by several degrees in an instant and sweat broke out on Squall's brow. They were going to have to continue the fight somewhere else or they would wind up getting trapped up here.

 

“He's all yours,” Rinoa said to Lacey. “I don't want him anymore.”

 

Rinoa's eyes burned a strange and brilliant blue and she rose up off the ground, her wings fanning the air around him. She was gearing up to finish this, but why she hadn't done it already was a mystery. Rinoa was deliberately toying with the woman when it would have been easier to just end it.

 

Out in the hallway, the floor gave way. There was a crash and a roar as flames curled around the door frame and licked up the walls as it found fresh tinder in the wallpaper. The heat in the room was unbearable.

 

“Rin, we've got to get out of here.”

 

Rinoa appeared not to have heard him. She raised her hands and closed her eyes as she cast a blinding spell Squall could not immediately identify until fingers of ice crackled across the floor and up the walls until the entire room was enveloped. The temperature dropped and Lacey screamed as slender fingers of ice twined up her legs and around her torso and down her arms.Rinoa followed up with an Ultima and a Meteor spell in quick succession.

 

Squall braced himself as the room was torn apart, the magic too powerful for such a small space. Debris pelted him as he covered his head with his arms. Across the room, Lacey's screams swelled in volume, her terror and pain like the howling of a dying cat.

 

Above him, part of the roof caved in as she cast Tornado. In his chest, he felt something snap, like a rubber band stretched beyond its limits, and he knew Rinoa had lost control. The emotions he felt across their bond were wild, unhinged, and Squall slid sideways into a dark hole of fury as Rinoa continued to savage the woman with her most powerful spells.

 

_Come back to me, Rin. I need you._

 

“Leonhart, the stairs collapsed. Can't get to you,” Seifer said in his ear. “Hope you've got a back-up plan.”

 

“We need to get out of here,” Squall insisted and reached for Rinoa's arm. “This place is coming apart.”

 

A rumble beneath his feet coincided with a ball of flame that blew in from the open doorway like a Bomb. There was only a split second to react as a wall of fire knocked Squall to the ground. Fire rolled over him and he found he couldn't breathe as the blaze ate up every last bit of oxygen in the room. He could see nothing through the smoke.

 

A scream that wasn't Rinoa's rang out, followed by blasts of gunfire as three rounds were fired in quick succession.

 

“Leonhart, get out of there!” Seifer insisted. “You promised Lily you'd come back. I swear to Hyne, I will come up there and get your ass to make sure you don't lie to the kid. You hear me? Get out of there!”

 

When Squall lifted his head all he could see was the bright orange and gold tongues that licked up over the walls and furniture. He didn't have air to answer Seifer so he clicked the microphone twice to acknowledge the page.

 

“That's twice now you've almost made me piss my pants, you shithead,” Seifer said. “Not fucking funny.”

 

“On my way,” he hissed into the microphone.

 

As Squall pushed himself to his feet, the floor beneath him buckled. His boots skidded against the wood floor as it gave way, and he was falling. The heat that rose up from below singed and stung his skin, and he flailed his arms for something to hold onto. His legs dangled into the hole, and below him, a sea of fire. The entire first floor was fully engulfed, nothing recognizeable in the inferno below.

 

As he slid into the growing chasm, he grabbed hold of a loose board and hung on for dear life. If he let go, or it gave way, he was done for.

 

“Rin!” he called out. “Forget her. We need to go.”

 

Between the smoke and his attempt to fight gravity, Squall grew dizzy. His vision swam with stars and smoke-induced tears as he struggled to pull himself out of the hole in the floor. Whatever was going on on the other side of the room, Squall couldn't see it.

 

The board in his hands gave way, cracked, splintered, and he gave up all the ground he'd made. A surge of heat boiled up beneath him, searing his face and he was cooking inside his jacket. It was too hot, too damn hot, and they were out of time. They had to get out of here, and they had to go now.

 

He kicked out and pushed hard against the splintered section of flooring. It took all of his remaining strength to drag himself out, hand over hand, using the rapidly disintegrating carpet to keep from plunging into the hellfire below. All around him, the sounds of the walls coming apart, cracking, popping, groaning as the flames consumed the house.

 

Squall did not want to die here. Not like this. And not now.

 

As soon as Squall was far enough out of the hole, he shot to his feet, covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve and staggered forward toward the shape of his Sorceress. He stumbled, nearly fell, and righted himself as he realized the floor had tilted ten degrees. Items that hadn't been knocked from dressers and tables slid to the floor. Photos in frames and paperbacks and decorative items scattered across the burning carpet and fed the blaze.

 

On the other side of the room, Rinoa stood, wings outstretched with her eyes closed. She swayed slowly from side to side as bright sparks of energy snapped along her arms and legs and between the feathers of her singed wings. Squall fought his way to her side and took her by the shoulders.

 

When he turned her to face him, he knew what must have happened and why she was acting this way. He'd seen it before, but he didn't waste time pondering the details. It was damn near impossible to breathe, he was dizzy, and he had no idea how they were going to escape.

 

He leaned in close to inspect her soot-stained face. Even dirty and disheveled as she was, she was still beautiful enough to make his heart stop for a second. Her blazing eyes were dazed as she blinked up at him. An enormous amount of power flowed through her veins, enough to break her mind if she let it.

 

“Is there another way out?” he asked.

 

“Stairs at the end of the hall,” she murmured.

 

He turned for the door, but the hole in the floor had widened and they were blocked in. The only way out was up.

 

“Can't go that way,” he said. “Can you fly us out of here?”

 

“Yeah,” she said. She coughed and leaned her head against his shoulder. Ashes in her hair, on her eyelashes. “It's so hard to breathe.”

 

“I know, but we'll be fine once we get outside.”

 

“Hold onto me,” she said.

 

The floor rocked beneath them again and Squall dropped nearly a foot. Rinoa caught him by the collar of his jacket and he wrapped a hand around her forearm to pull himself back up. There was a cracking sound and the floor gave way completely. He squeezed his eyes shut, said a silent apology to Lily and braced himself for impact.

 

But if he was falling, he was falling _up_. Fresh, cool air washed over him and he breathed a sigh of relief, sucking in great lung fulls of clean air as he was lifted up the hole in the roof and away from the blaze.

 

They landed clumsily on the back lawn, next to the tennis court. Squall took two steps, fell to his knees and rolled onto his back. He was so thankful to be alive, he pressed his scorched glove to his forehead and laughed in relief.

 

“The fuck are you Leonhart? Answer me!”

 

“Out back,” Squall said. “Rin too.”

 

“Shit,” Seifer said. “You and I are gonna have to have a long talk about communication, my friend.”

 

“I deserve that,” he said. “But I was kinda busy.”

 

“You know, If I were you, I'd go ahead and cuckold the wheelchair guy,” Seifer said with a panicky sounding laugh. “After what you just went through, that fucker deserves it. And you are long overdue for a good shagging.”

 

“Waaaaay too much information,” Zell said.

 

“Oh, sorry, did I offend your virgin ears?”

 

“I have two kids, you moron,” Zell said. “That didn't happen by immaculate conception.”

 

“You know, you're really starting to grow on me, Chicken-Wuss.”

 

“Still hate your guts, you bastard.”

 

Squall was too tired to interrupt their snarking. It wouldn't stop them anyway.

 

Seifer clucked over the radio. Zell made a sound like a whimpering puppy. Squall just smiled.

 

Beside him, Rinoa sat, arms wrapped around her knees, her eyes on the house.

 

“I've never been this happy to see something burn,” she said. “Good riddance.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

Squall woke with the scent of smoke in his nostrils and a scream in his throat. In his chest, his heart thundered. On edge and certain of danger, Squall looked around for any sign of a threat. The room around him was dark. Nothing burned except the electric red face of the digital alarm clock on the nightstand.

Beside him, Rinoa stirred. She shifted with a soft sigh and drew him back down to the pillow. Gentle hands soothed away the last of his dream-induced panic and Squall settled beside her, his body sore and tired. She didn't ask if he wanted to talk about it. That was fine. He didn't.

It was just after eight in the evening. They had slept for nearly ten hours.

Though his muscles ached, he was wide awake now and aware of how close she was. Warmth radiated from her skin, a hint of an unfamiliar but sweet perfume in her hair and both things were more comfort than he'd known in years.

There were still plenty of things he didn't know about what had happened after he'd been shot. They'd all told their individual stories in the presence of law enforcement, but Squall hadn't heard Rinoa's version of events and she hadn't heard his. All he had was a vague impression of her fury and Squall hadn't seen what happened to Lacey, though he'd been right there in the room with her. He suspected Rinoa had finally ended it, but flames and smoke had prevented him from witnessing Lacey's demise.

"You did kill her, right?" he finally asked.

"...yes."

Her voice was barely a whisper, but it carried a great deal of hurt. Squall shifted toward her and brought her closer, offering the safety and comfort of his arms in place of words he didn't have. She had always hated killing, even when it wasn't a choice.

"What happened?" he asked.

Rinoa settled her cheek against his folded elbow and cast her eyes away.

"...I lost control."

He brushed his knuckles over her cheekbone and she pushed them away and fled his arms. Her absence was an exclamation point, a warning. She wasn't okay with what she'd done, but Squall hadn't expected any other outcome.

"I wanted to kill her," she said flatly. "I wanted to hurt her. I wanted her to pay for what she did. I couldn't control it."

Squall sat up and folded her back against his chest. She didn't resist or pull away, but she was tense and he did his best to soothe away her anxiety with soft touches and a firm embrace.

What she said was the truth. Squall had felt that darkness swell up inside her. He'd seen with his own eyes how she'd risked burning to death in order to make Lacey Kilroy suffer, and he'd seen the cruelty in her as she'd taken her revenge.

But that wasn't who she was. Stress and fear and believing him dead had pushed her past the tipping point. He knew that, and she should have known it too.

Without a doubt, the collision of anger and loss and self-preservation had created a condition in which her only course of action was to fight back and destroy. A woman like Lacey Kilroy only understood cruelty and ruthlessness, and in order to best her, Rinoa had reacted in kind. He was sure Rinoa's behavior was less a result of her power than she might believe. It wasn't so uncommon to use one's own tactics against them. It happened all the time on the battle field.

She doubted herself, but her true self was a woman who had worked tirelessly for half her life to help others. She was no savage killer, she was just a woman who had been pushed past her limits and took matters into her own hands.

"It was so easy, Squall. I could have just ended it, but it was so _easy_ , just ending it wouldn't have been enough. I wanted her to suffer."

Squall tightened his grip on her, his lips grazed over her jaw.

"I'm terrified of how much power I have," she said. "And I don't want it."

"Better that you have it," Squall said, "than someone like Lacey."

"Am I any better than she is?"

Squall turned her face toward him, fingers twined through her hair. Her eyes were wide and scared.

"A thousand times better," he swore.

"Why do I feel so bad?"

"Because you're not a killer."

"But I killed her and I'm not sorry I did it."

"You were driven to it, Rin," he said. "Don't be contrary."

"I'm not being contrary, I feel bad that I _don't_ feel bad."

In her mind, killing without regret or mercy made her like the crazed sorceresses of the past, when nothing could be further from the truth.

"Rin, I've never met anyone so driven to help other people," he said. " _That's_ who you are."

"What if I'm changing?" she asked. "What if it changes me into someone like Adel? Or Ultimecia?"

"It won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you," he said.

He didn't say that he knew her heart like he knew his own, that he knew her all the way through. He didn't tell her he knew how much kindness and compassion she was capable of and how much of that she shared with other people. He didn't tell her how much of an impact she had on him when they were younger or that by forcing her way in and showing kindness, she had changed him for the better. Even if she'd left and he'd forgotten all of it, parts of her stayed with him, and the changes had been irrevocable.

"I don't believe you will ever be like Adel or Ultimecia," he said. "But even if you are... I'm with you."

All the fight drained out of her, and she relaxed against his chest. In spite of her worries and anxieties, Squall was keenly aware of how good she felt in his arms. She was no monster and he didn't believe her rage kill was anything more than a one-off. The threat was neutralized and she no longer needed to defend herself.

Squall had never resented losing her more than he did in that moment. He would have given anything to go back to that tiny apartment above the flower shop, to take back his choice not to follow. If he could rewind time, he wouldn't waste a single second worrying about what Garden wanted. In the end, it hadn't been as important as he thought it was.

"Whatever you want, Rin," he said. "I'm with you."

His lips skimmed over her temple, down the side of her face to the apex of her jaw. In his arms, she shivered and turned to meet his lips.

A sharp cry cut through the darkness, followed by a series of a girlish screams. Squall jumped, but he was not surprised. He actually expected something along these lines, just perhaps not so soon.

"Go," Rinoa said. "She needs you."

He found Lily on the floor beside the bed, crouched next to the wall with her face buried in her knees. She wasn't screaming anymore, but a high pitched, closed mouth shrieking sound came from her throat and it ripped Squall's insides to shreds.

Squall dropped to the floor beside her and reached for her. She flailed at his touch, screamed and shot to her feet. Still making that heartbreaking sound, Lily pressed herself into the corner next to the dresser and seized a small, decorative lamp from the collection of things on top of it.

"Lil, it's just me," Squall said. "It's okay."

"No, no, no, no," she howled, tears sparkling in her eyes and hurled the lamp at Squall. "No!"

Squall ducked as it smashed against the wall behind him.

"Just leave me alone!" Lily cried. "Please leave me alone!"

Squall stayed where he was. If he tried to restrain her, it would only frighten her more.

"It's okay. You're safe, Lil," he said. "It's just me."

The sound of his voice confused her for a minute, but it cut through her terror and she slipped to the floor in a heap of bony arms and legs and burst into tears.

"I'm sorry, dad," she bawled.  

Squall had never felt so awful about anything in his life. It was worse than attacking friends, worse than Ellone's death, a thousand times more painful than Rinoa leaving. And it was his fault. If he'd sent her to Laguna, she never would have been in danger, and she would never have been forced to kill a man in self defense.

He'd never wanted that for her. He never wanted her to know what that was like, and he only had himself to blame.

But she's called him dad.  She'd called him dad, and he wasn't worthy, but the sound of it...

"Come here," he said and opened his arms to her. "You're okay, Lil."

She scrambled into his lap just as Rinoa peeked into the room. Her face was full of compassion, her eyes sad as she joined them on the floor.

"I'm sorry," Lily sobbed. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay, kiddo," he said, folding her into him. "You didn't do anything wrong."

When Squall met Rinoa's eyes, there were tears in them. That was all it took for him to loose the fragile hold he had on his own emotions. He didn't even care. He bowed his head into Lily's hair as the tears came, a trickle at first, and then a waterfall.

"I'm the one that's sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Lily."

Rinoa's arms encircled them both, and she held on until Lily's sobs became sniffles, then hicups, then finally, she stopped shaking.

Lily's grip on Squall was fierce. Like she'd never let him go. Squall held her back just as fiercely, to let her know it was okay. Even if it wasn't, he wanted her to know that he was there, that he wasn't going anywhere, that she was okay, and that the danger had passed.

"How about a bath?" Rinoa asked Lily as she smoothed a hand over the girl's back. "It'll help you relax."

Lily nodded and allowed Rinoa to guide her to the bathroom. Squall heard the water turn on and Rinoa's soothing encouragement through the open bedroom door, but Squall continued to sit there on the floor. This wasn't the end of Lily's struggles. In doing what she had to in order to stay alive, she had lost something. Her innocence, maybe. Her sense of security. Maybe both.

He sat there until Rinoa returned with a towel wrapped Lily and ushered him out of the room. In the kitchen, for lack of anything better to do and because he hadn't eaten for almost a full day, he made sandwiches and poured himself a stiff drink. He swallowed down half the vodka in his glass and set it aside as Rinoa and Lily emerged from the bedroom.

Lily was calm, but blank faced as she drifted toward him to wrap her arms around his waist.

"Want something to eat?" he asked.

She shook her head no, then changed her mind and reached for a sandwich. She ate it without enthusiasm, chewing and swallowing automatically as if she couldn't taste what she was eating.

Squall sipped a fresh glass of vodka and watched her. Her blank expression scared him more than her fear did. He didn't want her to internalize it. He didn't want her to think she had to be tough. He'd done that, and where had it gotten him?

"Can we go home?" Lily asked.

"We can go right now, if you want."

Lily nodded. Her eyes were on the bloodstained carpet beyond the kitchen and Squall's heart sputtered in his chest. He hadn't thought to cover it up. As if either of them needed a reminder of how close he'd come to death.

"Okay," he said. "Go get your things together. I'll be in to help you in a minute."

As she walked away from him, he put his face in his hands.

"It's not your fault, you know," Rinoa said. "You did what you thought was best."

"No, I did it because I didn't want her to hate me," he said. "I allowed her to stay for selfish reasons."

"You did it because you didn't want to hurt her any more than she already was," Rinoa said. "You don't have to feel bad about that."

Rinoa's arms slipped around his waist and her cheek pressed against his chest.

"You're doing everything you're supposed to do, Squall," she said.

He heard her, and on some level, he knew she was right, even if it didn't feel that way.

"Come with us," he said.

She pulled away to look up at him.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes."

"I'll go get my things."

It took longer to pack than he'd thought, mostly because Lily's art supplies were scattered about the house, but they were on their way by ten and arrived at the house shortly thereafter. Rinoa drove, since Squall had downed two drinks in quick succession and didn't trust himself to drive.

As she pulled the truck into the driveway, Squall got a chill. Someone had been in his house while he was gone. He suspected Steven, on Lacey's orders, and Steven was dead, but that didn't erase his insecurity about having his personal space invaded.

They didn't bother to unload their things except for the essentials. Everything else could wait till morning and none of them had the energy or desire to spend the next twenty minutes carting things into the house.

Angel bounded inside like she owned the place and after a cursory inspection of the ground floor, posted herself beside Lily. It was as if the dog could sense the girl's pain and had appointed herself guardian. Wherever Lily went, Angel followed. Squall found the dog's behavior curious, but welcome, and Lily found comfort in the dog's presence. Considering the Angel's role, trained to attack and defend, she was surprisingly gentle with Lily, offering licks on the hand and tail wags when Lily responded with affection.

"She knows who needs her most," Rinoa said with a sad smile.

Squall could only nod. Though he was adverse to having a dog in the house, if it helped Lily he was game.

He gave the house a quick once over and found nothing missing or disturbed, but he hadn't expected to find anything. The police had already done this with him, but a walk-through eased his concerns. All the locks were working properly but he double checked all of them to be sure.

Inspection complete, his greatest worry was no longer security but cleanliness. There was a layer of dust on everything and Squall had to resist the urge to take care of it. If he got started, it would take hours and he just didn't have that kind of energy. Ten hours of sleep or not, dying had taken its toll on him. He wasn't ready to return to bed, but he didn't want to do anything or think about anything, either.

In the end, the three of them watched a kid's movie about singing orphaned mice. When Lily was a little younger, it had been her favorite movie, and Squall thought it might cheer her up. Squall had gotten used to hearing her sing the songs and recite lines, but this time, she barely even cracked a smile at her favorite parts. It hurt him to see her so plainly upset, but he knew there was little he could do but be there for her.

Halfway through the movie, Lily fell asleep. Squall carried her up the stairs and put her to bed. Angel went with them and paced anxiously around the bed until Squall relented and let her settle down next to Lily. That was a fight he didn't have the energy to fight.

For a while, he stood there and watched the steady rise and fall of Lily's chest, worried that she would wake up screaming again if he left.

His eyes fell on the framed photo of Ellone on the nightstand. Squall was surprised to see it there and realized Lily must have brought it in from the truck. Ellone's bright smile accused him of negligence.

"I'm sorry, Sis," he said to the photo. "I'm doing my best."

Then he looked away because his best wasn't good enough.

When Lily's breathing deepened, he returned downstairs to find Rinoa in the kitchen. She'd made him a drink, which he gratefully accepted. As he sat on the couch, he dropped his head into his palm and wondered what came next. He thought about everything that had happened, and about Lily and Ellone and Rinoa and their respective roles in his life.

Hell, he was really just an emotionally weak man, surrounded by strong women, wasn't he?

When he looked back, he'd always been, even when he didn't realize it. Each one of them had given him something he didn't understand or appreciate until now. Ellone had been his caregiver, his family and his first and best friend. Quistis, his teacher and sometimes mentor. Rinoa, the love he never knew he was capable of. Lily, his beating heart and the breath in his lungs, the sole reason he'd kept it together this long. Each one had propped him up in some way, and he'd only been strong because of them. They were the lifelines that made his world a little less lonely.

Rinoa watched him from her place on the couch. The silence was too thick, so Squall started talking about his breakdown. He didn't know why he started there, or if it really mattered, but that's what came out and once he started talking, he couldn't stop.

He told her about how in junctioning to too many GF's, his memories slipped away one by one until he knew nothing but his daily routine and the basics of survival. Names started to escape him, then faces, until he was reduced to something only a step above a feral animal.

The were really only a few clear memories of that time, and those were things he wanted to forget, but he talked about those too. About how he'd gone after Irvine and had nearly killed him. How Zell had climbed into the darkened closet with him and talked to him until his panic subsided.

Then the week of confusion that followed, full of moments of inexplicable rage and panic. Even when he was clear about who he was, where he was, and what he was supposed to be doing, there had been a furious paranoia boiling in him that he couldn't stop.

"I remembered the things I needed to get by. Most of the time, I knew who people were, where I was, who I was supposed to be, but there was a lot I left out," he said. "The majority of both wars, growing up at Garden, losing Ellone as a kid, you leaving. I left all of that alone. Any time that stuff came up, it was like hearing a story about someone else. Anyway, I went to Ellone after I resigned from Garden. I barely knew who she was, but she took me in, no questions asked."

"What about Laguna?" Rinoa asked. "Did you remember him?"

Squall shook his head.

"I laughed when he said he was my dad," Squall said. "I told him I didn't have a father and ignored him for almost a week. When I finally did remember him, it was the stupid things. Him falling off cliffs and mixing up words. Getting into fist fights with Dr. Odine. Mooning over my mother. Then, I didn't talk to him because I thought he was a moron."

"Did Ellone help you recover your memories?" Rinoa asked.

"Some of them," he said. "Mostly just the ones of when we were kids. I asked her not to after she showed me the war. I didn't want to remember that."

Ellone had picked up all his broken pieces one by one and patiently allowed him to work through the gaps in his memory on his own. When asked, she filled in the blanks, but otherwise let him come to terms at his own pace and she never pushed for him to remember everything or tried to force him to see what he didn't want to see.

He'd been almost childlike in the first few weeks. He would lay on the floor in the living room and watch Lily color and draw pictures. He would spend hours watching cartoons with her, and occasionally found himself entranced by odd things, like the way multiple light sources would cast multiple shadows or the way dust motes danced in beams of sunlight through the windows.

It only now occurred to him what being there must have meant to Lily. The way she'd attached herself to him was similar to the way Squall had attached himself to Ellone when he was a boy. Lily hadn't seen a damaged, broken man, only a father figure and occasional playmate. He blinked back tears as he realized he had inadvertently denied her what she'd needed most. At the time, all he'd seen was a cute kid who didn't mind his silences and could tease a smile out of him every now and then.

Once Squall was stable enough, he'd moved on. Deling City had seemed as good a place as any to start over. Starting over wasn't as hard as he'd thought, but it was lonely. He worked and he went home and dated casually because he was supposed to, but that was all there was for a while. When he was well on his way to something like normal, he'd run into Seifer on the job. It was only because of the scar that Squall remembered him at all. They'd come to understand one another, had talked about starting the business, and Squall's compass stopped spinning.

On a visit to Esthar to see Ellone and Lily, Squall's life irrevocably changed again. They'd gone bowling, just Ellone, Squall and Lily. Squall was not a fan of the game, but Ellone made it fun. Squall tried to take it seriously at first, but between Lily and Ellone, he'd had to damp down his natural competitiveness in favor of having a good time. It was silly fun, watching his sister throw the ball down the lane, which was equipped with bumpers for Lily's sake, and still miss the pins. To make Lily laugh, and with the aid of several beers, Squall channeled his father, acted a fool and spun around in circles before throwing his own ball.

Once or twice, he'd sensed a sadness in Ellone that she wouldn't explain. She'd known then that she was sick, but she'd lied to him and said she was just tired.

But she wasn't.

On the last frame of their last game, Ellone stepped up to throw her ball, dropped it and sank to the floor, panting and red-faced like she'd just fought a blue dragon. Squall remembered how the ball rolled away from her and she just continued to sit there, clutching her chest as she tried to draw breaths her body wouldn't accept. Squall almost called an ambulance, but Ellone insisted it would pass. And it did, but not without leaving Squall with an uneasy feeling in his gut.

Later that night, after Lily was in bed and after more alcohol than he'd ever seen Ellone consume in one sitting, she'd come clean. She was dying; it was terminal. Her lungs were filled with tumors and he disease had spread to her lymph nodes. She didn't have much time left. A few months, at best.

Squall was devastated. He'd quit his security job the next morning, sublet his apartment to Seifer, and he stayed in Esthar with his family.

He spent two months trying to track down a specialist who could save her, and it was only at Ellone's request that he gave up. The help available would only prolong her suffering, and as the days and weeks passed, Ellone's suffering was great. She stopped treatments and accepted that she was going to die far more easily than either Squall or Laguna. He hadn't wanted her to give up, believing there must have been something out there that could help. There had to be some drug or treatment that would stop the tide of sickness from eating her alive, but Ellone didn't want to fight anymore.

Laguna visited almost daily, but he always left in tears. At the time, Squall had been unsympathetic to what Laguna must have been going through, but he understood it better now. There was only so much one man could take, and Ellone was the final straw for Laguna. He hadn't exactly avoided the situation, and he never failed to show up, but hadn't been able to do much more than that. At the time, all Squall saw was his father shirking his duty.

Squall watched his sister grow weaker and weaker, and he cared for her as best as he could. There was little he could do toward the end but be there and hold her hand when the pain was too great.

There was no way to shield Lily from it. He'd considered sending Lily away so she wouldn't have to watch her mother die, but it seemed so cruel to deny either of them those last days together. And there were precious few of those left. Most of them, Ellone spent in a painkiller induced fog, struggling for breath and unable to speak because talking stole away what little oxygen she was able to draw.

Squall tried his best to explain to Lily what was happening and tried to distract her when Ellone's suffering made her cry. There were a lot of sleepless nights as he'd sat in Ellone's room with Lily asleep in his arms.

He guilted Laguna into buying an assortment of art supplies, after Lily showed talent and interest in drawing and painting. It had kept her occupied and focused on something other than Ellone's pain, and it turned out to be one of he best decisions Squall had made for her. Lily turned to art to help her work through all the stages of grief in the same way Squall had relied on his organization skills and leadership to get through it.

The last two days of Ellone's life, Squall didn't sleep at all. He feared if he closed his eyes for a second, he would wake and find Ellone had passed and he hadn't gotten the chance to say goodbye. He stayed by her bedside and declined to eat, holding onto her hand as he watched Ellone struggle for breath.

It struck him how inhumane it was to allow people to die like this when the kind thing to do was to help them go peacefully and without pain. She'd asked him twice to give her a lethal dose of painkillers, to smother her with the pillow, and he'd almost done it.

But he couldn't.

There was nothing that could save her, but some part of him clung to the hope that by some miracle, Ellone would get better. He prayed her struggle for breath would ease, that her pain would subside, and this would all go away. That wasn't reality, and there was nothing that could save her, but he held onto that hope until the very end.

When she went, a small part of Squall died with her. He wanted to get up and tear the room apart at how unfair it was that someone like Ellone could die like this. He'd wanted to scream and cry and fall apart and the only thing that kept him from doing it was Lily.

Squall handled it the way he handled everything: with cool, calm efficiency, a level head and renewed sense of the impermanence and unreliability of others. He made funeral arrangements and packed the apartment and did his best to comfort his heartbroken father and his confused, scared niece.

Ellone's will had named Laguna Lily's guardian in the event of her death. Lily adored Laguna's silly antics, but she didn't want to live with him – it was Squall she wanted. Squall hadn't realized it at the time, but Lily had grown so attached to him, being sent to Laguna was almost as devastating as losing her mother.

Laguna, in pain of his own, wasn't emotionally prepared to deal with a despondent seven-year-old that cried all the time and refused to interact with him. His job demanded all of his time, and Lily suffered. It wasn't intentional. Like Squall, Laguna used work as a means to deal with his loss, and in the end, he'd admitted that he couldn't handle his own grief, let alone Lily's. It had hurt Laguna even more that it wasn't Laguna Lily wanted, but Squall.

Lily had been exactly what Squall had needed to deny his own grief. It allowed him to bury it, but it had come at a price, and the adjustment for both of them had been tough. In cutting off his grief, he'd cut off the part of himself that made Lily nuts about him in the first place. In pushing aside his own pain, he'd made hers invalid. He was no longer a fun uncle, he was a man who had a kid dropped in his lap and didn't know what to do with her. And Lily felt that. She'd picked up on his frustration and his distance and he knew he must have come off as uncaring and put-out.

He saw all that now as he unburdened himself to Rinoa, and he hadn't seen it a month ago. _He_ was the reason Lily had become moody and withdrawn, but it only now occurred to him. No wonder she was so afraid of being left. No wonder she thought she was a burden. Squall had pushed her away without meaning to.

Why he spilled all this to Rinoa now, he didn't know. Perhaps because he needed her to see he was still a broken man, and not nearly as strong as everyone seemed to think he was. The only person who knew how badly damaged he'd been, and maybe still was, ironically enough, was Seifer. The man might have teased him without mercy, but being broken himself, Seifer got it.

For the last two years, Lily was the only thing that had kept Squall's head above water. He'd stayed tough for her, and he would continue to do so, but from now on, she was his first and most important priority. He owed her that. Lily was the absolute best thing in his life, and had been for longer than he'd even realized. For all intents and purposes, she was his daughter, and nothing in the world was more important than giving her the kind of life she deserved.

"You're still trying to do everything on your own," Rinoa said.

"I have to," he said. "No one else is going to do it for me."

"You have friends," she said. "They'd help if you asked."

"They already saw me fall on my face once," Squall said. "I didn't want anyone to think I didn't have it together."

"Nobody thinks less of you for it," Rinoa swore. "I guarantee it."

"Sometimes, it's easier to pretend," he said. "Hyne knows, I've gotten pretty good at it."

"You don't have to pretend. Or act like you have all the answers or know exactly what to do all the time," Rinoa said. "You're human. You make mistakes, and it's okay to mess up or make a stupid decision or just completely fall on your face. Nobody's perfect."

Slender fingers laced through his and a strange sort of calm crept over him, as if her touch was a sedative. Maybe it was witchcraft, or maybe it was just her.

"I'm an expert at falling on my face," Rinoa said. "You just have to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and come up with a new plan. And if it's a stupid plan, you come up with a different one and try again until you succeed."

Her life philosophy, in a nutshell, and it hadn't changed since she was seventeen.

"Should we plop down on the floor and hash one out?" he asked. "Build a model?"

"If it helps," Rinoa said with a smile.

"Lily should build the model this time," he said. "Yours left something to be desired."

"I can't believe you remember that."

"How could I not?" he asked. "Ugliest thing I've ever seen."

She slapped him lightly on the arm, indignant.

"You are so mean! I worked really hard on that stupid thing."

"Should have worked harder on your plan."

"It was a good plan!" she said. "I just didn't factor in the possibility that Deling wouldn't actually be on that train."

"Obviously."

"Wow, you're sassy tonight," she said. Then she burst into laughter. "Of all things to remember... or tease me about."

"Contrary to popular belief, I do have a sense of humor," he said. "Not to mention, dangling from the side of a moving train isn't exactly easy to forget. Nor the bile spitting zombie body double."

"Forget my stupid model, that guy was the ugliest thing _I've_ ever seen."

"He was pretty nasty," Squall agreed. "But the model still wins."

"Squall!" she cried and slapped his arm again.

Squall seized her wrist and pinned it to her thigh.

"Stop hitting me," he said. "Anyway, we're off topic."

"You're the one that brought up my less than admirable arts and crafts skills. What were we talking about?"

"Falling on our faces."

Rinoa grew serious as she turned toward him. Squall still had hold of her wrist but he loosened his grip as her expression turned contemplative.

"Right. Um, I guess I wanted to say... You can't win all the time," she said. "Life would be pretty boring if everything worked out according to plan all the time, you know? And failure makes success that much better."

"All I've done for the last ten years is fail."

"That's not true," Rinoa said. "Have you done everything right? No, but you live and learn and you do what you can. That's all you can do. And as far as Lily's concerned, you're doing a great job. I know you don't think so, but you are, and all you have to do is be there. That's all she needs from you."

If anyone knew what having an emotionally distant father was like or could speak for what a damaged little girl needed, it was Rinoa. Her words carried more weight in that respect than anyone's.

"So what's the plan now?" he asked. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I don't have one."

"Nothing from Ian?"

She shrugged and looked away.

"I don't even want to talk to him," she said. "I'm so angry with him, I'm afraid I might set him on fire."

Squall draped an arm around her shoulders and he liked the way she fit against his side. It was like having a missing limb suddenly reattached.

"I won't stop you if you do," he said. "You probably shouldn't though."

Squall took a sip of his drink and changed the subject to something that had been on his mind for a while.

"Besides Ian, did you date at all?"

"I went on dates," she said. "But, none of them were you. You set the bar pretty high."

Squall slipped his other arm around her and gave her a tight squeeze as a high octane blend of both love and lust started a slow burn in his blood. She nuzzled his neck, and in an instant, simmering lust exploded into a wildfire. He muttered a curse as he was consumed by unexpected but intense need for her.

Squall had never been an aggressive lover. Not in the sense that he allowed himself to lose control and give in completely to the purely physical side of the act. He'd taken a tactical approach to lovemaking. Kiss there. Touch here. Take your time. Wait your turn. Like checking things off a list. His own enjoyment had been less important than making sure she got something out of it, too.

He'd loved driving her wild while he remained in complete control of himself. Watching her unravel before his eyes was one of the few truly enjoyable things in his life. He wanted to do that now, to work his way through all the things she liked, to touch all the places that would make her cry out, but restraint proved a difficult thing to maintain as he swept her against him and crushed his lips to hers.

Restraint was a lost cause when she responded with a fiery eagerness that bordered on desperation. Slender arms curled around his neck as she found her way into his lap and his hands roamed on their own, free to explore all the parts of her he hadn't touched in too many years.

Want tore through him as his hands found the soft, smooth plane of her back under her shirt. Her body arched against him, and any pretense of control was conquered by desperate, passionate need. He lifted her up, legs wrapped around his waist and he carried her up the stairs, stopping once to press her back against the wall, too hungry for the taste of her lips to wait.

Even with the barrier of clothing still in place, being this close after so damn long was electrifying. Her thin, wordless cries intoxicated him, urged him on, rendered him incapable of rational thought, and he wanted more, all of her, body, mind, and soul. He would not be satisfied with anything less.

In the bedroom, he kicked the door shut and locked it, then gently deposited her on the bed. He wanted to take his time, to work his way up to it, to savor the feel of her skin under his hands, but when she savagely yanked his shirt over his head and her hands slid up his torso he gave up any pretense of restraint.

Clothing was cast away piece by piece and tossed about the bedroom carelessly, haphazardly as his hands and mouth went where they wanted to, heedless of any tactical approach that had served him in the past. There was no room for patience as both were overcome with a powerful need to reconnect, the pull of the bond too strong to deny.

If there was anything better than this, Squall didn't know it. He lost himself in her touch, in her arms and in the sounds of her soft gasps as he made love to her for the first time in far too long. Being in her arms was like coming home, a welcome after being absent nearly a decade. He missed her more than any words could express, so he showed her with his hands and lips.

After, Squall lay tangled in her arms, the warm press of her body next to his the comfort he'd so badly needed all these years. Letting her go for even a second seemed a crime. As he drifted toward sleep with her breath against his neck, he knew this was how he wanted to fall asleep every night for the rest of his life.

* * *

 

Rinoa woke the next morning, not quite fully rested but unable to go back to sleep. Taking care not to wake Squall, she climbed from the bed, stretched and covered a yawn with her hand. A glance over her shoulder revealed Squall sleeping soundly and she smiled at the memory of his unrestrained touch.

It hadn't ever been like that. Usually, she'd had to coax it out of him, but Squall had never been that passionate before. Nor had he ever initiated it in such a demanding, almost forceful way, and Rinoa had loved every second of it. Seeing the formidable, controlled Squall Leonhart come undone for her was something she never thought she'd see.

All those boyhood hangups seemed long forgotten. His fear of being too aggressive, his need to stay in control of himself, his discomfort in showing all of himself to her – there was something so unrestrained, so purely physical about it, and it was so different, but Rinoa had never felt more connected. Even the way he'd talked for so long before had an element of unbridled openness that Rinoa hadn't expected, as if confessing had unlocked some part of him he'd kept locked in the dark too long.

She shivered at the thought of how good it felt to be in his arms again and briefly considered snuggling back into his warmth, but one look at his peaceful, unburdened face and she changed her mind. Instead, she pulled on her jeans and one of Squall's t-shirts and padded downstairs quietly to make coffee and forage for breakfast.

The smell of caffeine brewing lifted her out of the fog of sleep and she leaned against the counter to watch the dark brown liquid drizzle into the pot.

Now that the high of reconnecting with the man she'd never stopped loving had plateaued, a deep unease crept up over her as she thought about everything else besides. A second, less pleasant shiver crawled her vertebrae as she thought about Lacey.

She'd never gotten used to having to take a life. She'd never enjoyed it, not even when they'd taken down Ultimecia. She hadn't regretted Ultimecia, either, but her death hadn't been this... satisfying.

From the cabinet, Rinoa retrieved a mug and filled it to the brim. A couple sips saw her less jagged, and less on edge and it was just what she needed to get her head back on straight.

She carried the mug to the living room and considered a walk down to the cafe she'd seen on the corner to pick up breakfast. She almost dropped it when she noticed a limo parked out front and Florian waiting on the front walk. Her hand tightened around the mug, and the imp of the perverse screamed at her to go outside and throw it at his head.

_Do it! He deserves it, Rinoa._

She shook off the thought and took a slow, contemplative sip of coffee as she considered where to start and what to say to him.

Was there really anything _to_ say to him? Did she really need answers now? Would anything he had to say make any impact on her plans for the future? Not that she had anything worked out, but she doubted anything he had to say would change her trajectory.

After a moment of hesitation as she considered what to do, Rinoa opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch.

"If I'd known the only way to get your attention was to set the house on fire, I would have done it weeks ago," she said as she stepped further out onto the patio.

"That house has been in my family for almost 200 years," Ian said.

He didn't sound angry. Not at all. His eyes followed as Rinoa moved closer and propped herself against the rail with one hip so she could see her husband's face.

"I'm not even sorry to see it go," he said.

Rinoa sipped her coffee and waited.

"I suppose you have questions."

Rinoa had questions, but no desire to ask them. It just didn't matter. Not anymore.

"I want a divorce," she said.

"Am I allowed to plead my case?" Ian  asked. "Explain why I handled things the way I did?"

"Sure," she said, taking a seat on the step. "Probably won't change my mind, though. You're the one that left me in the care of a man you knew I loved."

He nodded sadly.

"I knew the risk when I hired him."

"And you did it anyway?"

"I did it for you," he said. "I knew how unhappy you were and there wasn't a thing I could do to fix that. I thought, if he could make you happy..."

"That's something you probably should have mentioned," she said. 

"Go for a drive with me," he said. "Like it or not, there are things we need to discuss. In private."

"I don't think so," Rinoa said.

"Please, Noni," Ian said. "It's important."

"You can say it here."

If Ian had been honest from the beginning, Rinoa might value what he had to say, but she didn't trust him not to lie or hide things from her anymore. Even if he'd done it with the best of intentions, to protect her and to make her happy, she'd and Squall had almost paid for it with their lives. Lily had been put in danger because of Ian's lies.

"They're going to charge you with murder," he said.

Rinoa turned back around, unsure if she'd heard him right or not.

"You admitted to it, didn't you?" he asked. "To killing Lacey?"

In her interview with the police, she hadn't held back. She had told them everything, from start to finish. They'd let her go free, and she'd thought that was the end of it.

"You shouldn't have said a word without our lawyer present."

"I don't understand."

"Lacey's family is pressing charges," Ian said. "As are the Kilroys."

"I didn't kill Lance," she said.

"Be that as it may..."

"Is that why you're here?" Rinoa asked. "To warn me?"

"Come back to me and you'll have the best lawyer in the country, any and all resources at your disposal," he said.  

Rinoa let out a scoffing laugh. "Really, Ian? Come back? For what?"

"You must still have some love for me," he said. "We could work out some other deal..."

"You are not seriously trying to buy my affection!"

"I had it once."

"And you would still have it if you hadn't lied to me or kept secrets from me!" she cried. "You haven't called me for weeks, you knew about Blaise and you didn't say a word! How am I supposed to trust you or believe anything you say?"

"Everything I did, I did with your best interest in mind," Ian said. "Not telling you about Blaise was a mistake, but with everything going on, I didn't think it was a good time to throw it in your lap."

"Good thing Blaise felt otherwise," Rinoa said. "If not for him, I'd probably be dead right now."

"Please get in the car," he said. "This isn't the appropriate place for this conversation."

"You're right. But I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Be reasonable, Noni."

A  jolt of electricity ripped across her skin and crackled between her fingertips. Unexpected power boiled and swelled inside her and her previous concern about setting Ian on fire became a strong possibility. She took a deep breath to calm her anger but it only seemed to fuel it.

"Who are you to tell me to be reasonable?" she demamded. "Leaving me alone to deal with all this by myself wasn't reasonable. Keeping things a secret when it affected my life wasn't reasonable. And expecting me to jump back into your arms because you're offering me a way out isn't _reasonable!_ Not to mention, Squall!"

Electric fire crackled between her fingertips and zig-zagged over the ground around her bare feet. The air around her sizzled with energy and that strange, out of control sensation slithered up through her stomach like a nest of agitated snakes. If she didn't get a handle on herself, she was going to damage him even more than he already was. No matter what he'd done or how many secrets he'd kept, he didn't deserve that.

Rinoa thought of all the things Ian had done for her, before all the lies and secrets. He had helped her liberate Timber. He had believed in her and encouraged her when it seemed hope was lost for the struggling country. He had supported that dream.

No matter how many lies he'd told, that did count for something and thinking about that brought her back down to earth.

She thought of Emelda, too, telling her to remind them all what she was and felt vindicated by his reaction. She hadn't realized he was the one who needed reminding most.

"Did you know about Lacey?" Rinoa asked.

"I knew she had a crush when she was younger, but I thought she'd gotten over it years ago."

"Did you know she killed Danielle?"

That information startled him. He hadn't known. All that time, Danielle's killer had been right in front of him, and he hadn't seen it or even suspected.

"She wanted me out of the way, too," Rinoa said. "To her, I was just another person standing in her way."

"She's not that smart," Florian said. "She couldn't have done all this."

"And I suppose you think I'm stupid, too."

"Of course not, Noni."

"My name is Rinoa," she said. "And Lacey almost pulled it off. She was smarter than anyone gave her credit for. You in particular."

He blinked at her and sighed. From his pocket he retrieved a long, white envelope and held it out.

"Give this to Leonhart," Florian said. "He's earned it."

Rinoa took the envelope. It was unmarked and felt like there was nothing inside. She was tempted to open it but refrained, as it wasn't for her and she had no business sticking her nose in whatever arrangement they'd made.

"I'll file the proceedings for divorce in the morning," he said. "Do you have any demands?"

"I don't want anything," she said. "Except Angel."

Ian blinked back tears and nodded.

"For what it's worth, Rinoa," he said. "I do love you."

Rinoa couldn't return the sentiment. Being abandoned and lied to had erased whatever love she might have felt for the man. Even the friendship they'd shared for the last five years was tainted by all the secrecy. She doubted they would ever be friends again, and that broke her heart.

"Goodbye, Florian," she said. "I appreciate everything you did to help Timber, and I'm sorry things turned out this way."

"Perhaps some day in the future, you'll forgive me," he said, "and I hope you find happiness."

"Thank you," she said. "you too."

"Goodbye, Rinoa."

Rinoa turned away from him, swallowed down the last of her coffee and didn't look back.

She returned to the house to find Squall standing in the foyer. He crossed his arms over his chest and his eyes flicked from the limo out front to Rinoa. His expression remained neutral, but Rinoa sensed his worry across the bond. She stepped toward him, slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his bare chest.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"I asked him for a divorce," she said. "He agreed."

She calmed as Squall's hand tangled in her hair and she closed her eyes when he wrapped an arm around her waist. His touch had the power to make the dark swell of power building inside her fizzle out like a blaze doused in ice water. She had forgotten how Squall's presence could bring her back into balance when she was on edge.

Unfortunately, their reunion would be short lived.

"They're going to charge me with Lacey's murder," she said. "I think... I should turn myself in. I don't want them coming here. I don't want Lily to see."

Squall's arms went all the way around her and he pulled her closer, bathing her in the scent of bergamot and spice. She breathed it in like it was the last time she would ever get to smell it and she leaned into his fierce grip. Having to leave him now was a cruelty she couldn't take. It wasn't fair to find each other, only to be separated again.

"I'll call Laguna," Squall said. "Get a recommendation for a good lawyer, but I doubt the charges will stick."

"I admitted it," Rinoa said. "I told them I killed her."

"It won't stick," he swore. "It was self defense."

"Maybe if I was just a normal woman... But I'm not. Sorceress hate isn't limited to stupid cults and psychotic rich girls."

"I know that," Squall said. "But philanthropy counts for something. No jury is going to convict a woman who spent the last eight years helping others. Especially not after what those people did to you."

Rinoa desperately hoped he was right, but that didn't change the way world saw Sorceresses. They would still see her as a murderous, wrathful witch who took her revenge in the cruelest way possible. No one knew better than Rinoa that no matter what a Sorceress did, there was always some underlying uncertainty about her behavior, even when showing kindness. They wouldn't see it as a woman pushed to her limits but as a Sorceress who had committed a brutal murder. She would be persecuted for what she had the potential to become.

"Will you take me to the station?" she asked. "I don't want to draw this out."

Squall gave her a hard, possessive, squeeze and pressed her head into his chest like he would never, ever let her go. Rinoa didn't want him to, but the longer she waited, the more likely it was they'd come to the door looking for her.

"Let me get Lily up," he said.

Rinoa put her shoes on in a daze and tried to steel herself against what was coming. She could hear Lily moving about in the bathroom as Squall returned to get dressed in a cold silence. His coldness was not directed at her, but she still took it personal. He was now in SeeD mode, his mind planning out the days to come so that he wouldn't have to feel the pain of losing her so soon.

The ride to the police station was totally silent. Lily sat in the back seat, staring out the window lost in her own thoughts, and Squall said nothing at all. Both of his hands gripped the steering wheel hard and his jaw was set in that stubborn way that told Rinoa far more than any words could say.

When they pulled into the lot, Squall sat back, hands still on the wheel as he stared through the windshield.

"Want us to come in with you?" he asked.

"No," she said. "It'll be easier if I go alone."

His eyes cut toward her as if to challenge that statement. Watching her go would not be easy. Just as getting out of the car to walk up those steps and voluntarily accepting imprisonment would not be easy. It had to be done one way or another and surrender was the best option for everyone.

"I'll be in touch," Squall promised.

Rinoa nodded, unable to get words past the lump in her throat.

"This isn't goodbye," he said quietly. "We'll figure this out."

It was then that Rinoa remembered the envelope Florian had given her. She withdrew it from the pocket of her jeans and passed it to him.

"From Ian," she said. "He asked me to give it to you."

Squall didn't even spare a glance at it before he shoved it in the pocket of his coat.

"I should go," she said.

Squall nodded and turned his eyes away to glare through the windshield again. Rinoa opened the car door, took a deep breath and stepped out as tears began to well up in the corners of her eyes. She closed the door and walked away from the car without looking back, afraid that if she did, she would dissolve into a fit of uncontrollable sobbing. She climbed the steps of the police station with the same kind of grim resignation as someone being marched in front of a firing squad. For all she knew, that was exactly the fate that awaited her.

She heard a car door slam and turned toward the sound. Squall sprinted up the steps two at a time, an angry determination in his face as he ascended the steps two at a time. When she was within arm's reach, he swept her into a fierce, possessive embrace. Her body was crushed against his and she began to cry in earnest when his lips came down to meet hers. His kiss was hungry and demanding at first, and then gentler as his grip on her eased.

When he pulled back, he searched her face, struggling for the right thing to say. Rinoa put a finger to his lips and shook her head. There was nothing he _could_ say to make this any easier and she didn't want him to feel as though he should have said something when no words were needed.

He leaned his forehead against hers, his hands came up to cup her jaw and he pressed the softest of kisses to her lips.

"This isn't goodbye," he said.

"Go," she said as she broke away. "Lily needs you, too."

Squall gave her one last peck on the lips before Rinoa turned away from him. Without looking back, she climbed the steps, opened the door and stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A while back, silentstarlight drew some fan art of Squall and Lily and posted it over on Tumblr! You should go check it out because it's adorable! *flails* 
> 
> http://silentstarlight.tumblr.com/image/141557236783


	17. Chapter 17

Squall stood on the steps of the police station fighting back tears as he watched Rinoa disappear into the lobby. Every instinct in him screamed to go after her, to help her through this, to put a stop to it. For a few seconds, he was a seventeen-year-old boy again, watching Estharian officials lead Rinoa away to be sealed. For all he knew, that was the fate that awaited her. Murder carried a hefty sentence. Being a Sorceress would only compound that.

There was too much evidence to prove Lacey terrorized Rinoa and this would come to nothing. A good lawyer would argue she'd been driven to it, and it wouldn't be a lie.

He took a moment to collect himself, then turned around and bounded down the steps. When he reached the car, Lily got out of the back and into the passenger side without a word. Squall started the car but sat there and waited for the mist in his eyes to clear.

Lily reached over and grasped his hand and Squall leaned over to press a kiss to her temple. She needed to know, no matter what happened next, she was not on the verge of losing him, too.

"It'll be okay, Lil," he promised.

"Will you?" she asked. "Be okay?"

The answer was _no_ , but he nodded, took his phone from his pocket and called Laguna. Along with the phone came the envelope from Delacroix. He dropped it into his lap, unconcerned about its contents. Whatever it was could wait.

"I'm already on it, son. I'm in touch with a lawyer here in Dollet. He's good. Has a long track record of winning cases," Laguna said. "But I wouldn't worry too much. I'm sure the charges won't stick, and even if it goes to trial, I doubt any jury would convict her. Not after everything they did to her."

"Thanks," Squall said. "I really appreciate it."

"One thing, though," Laguna said. "You can't be involved. At all."

"What do you mean?"

"Cops are worried that if you show up, the two of you will go all Adel on everyone," Laguna said. "I told them that wouldn't be a concern, but just the same, you have to take a knee on this one. You being around won't help. I know that's hard for you to hear, but..."

Squall understood, but he didn't like it. Not being there for her was tough to swallow.

"Besides, there's a possibility that you'll be charged as an accessory."

"What?" Squall asked, startled.

He cast his eyes toward Lily with a sinking feeling in his stomach. That would be the worst possible situation for Lily. It was everything the girl feared, and his heart ached at the thought of what it wold do to her.

"Rinoa flat out denied you had anything to do with Lacey's death, so it shouldn't come up," Laguna said. "But I just want you to be prepared in case something comes to light."

"Are you prepared?" Squall asked. "I have responsibilities."

There was a long silence on the other end.

"I am," Laguna said. "If it comes to that. I'm overdue for some bonding time with the kiddo anyway."

"You think?"

Squall pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced at his own comment. He hadn't meant to be rude.

"I know I haven't done right by her," Laguna said. "She looks so much like her mother... It breaks my heart all over again every time I see her."

"Not an excuse," Squall said. "I lost her too, you know."

"I know that. Doesn't change how I feel," Laguna said. "Anyway, I'm doing what I can for Rinoa. Hopefully, this will come to nothing."

"You still in town?"

"I'm at the hotel."

"Come by for dinner," Squall said.

"I'd like that, son," Laguna said.

Laguna's sincerity killed Squall's irritation. It was hard to stay angry at the man, as frustrating and flighty as he was. They said their goodbyes and he pocketed his phone.

"Your grandfather's coming to dinner," Squall said to Lily.

"Why?" Lily asked.

"He wants to see you."

Lily shrugged, unmoved and uninterested. Laguna had done himself no favors by staying away.

As Squall pocketed his phone, he remembered the envelope in his lap and tore the flap open.

A check.

Squall nearly choked when he counted the zeros, and then recounted them, just to be sure he wasn't seeing things. When Delacroix said he'd include a generous bonus, this was not what Squall imagined. Clearly, Delacroix's idea of generous differed greatly from Squall's.

"Holy shit," he murmured.

His next call was to Florian Delacroix.

* * *

 

Rinoa sat at a metal table, wrists cuffed to her chair by a pair of Odine bangles. She went through events with police a third time, tired of repeating herself. Anxiety ran high, her blood thrumming with power as her body tried to shift into self-preservation mode. These people were not the enemy. They just wanted the full story, that was all, but she couldn't seem to convince her Sorceress-self of that.

She wished Squall was here with her. Though she had specifically requested he not be involved in this, it was easier to manage her fear and anxiety with him near. He could quiet the edgy, nervous response to all the repeated questions and accusing looks.

"So, you're not the one who set the mansion on fire," the lead detective said again.

"Lacey started the blaze," Rinoa said with exaggerated patience. "She threw a fire spell at me, it missed and hit the drapes."

"And Mr. Kilroy. Who killed him?"

"Lacey shot him in the head," Rinoa said. "I'm sure Jackie Dumas and Miranda DeLong can corroborate that story. They were there."

The detective stared at her like she was the worst sort of liar, his sneer ugly and full of disgust.

"You have the reports about what these people did to me. She planned to kill me, just like she killed Danielle Wilkins," Rinoa said. "I don't know what you expect me to say. I killed her, but she gave me no other choice. If you want to charge me for that, then charge me, but I had nothing to do with Lance."

Rinoa didn't want to go to prison, but she was prepared to face whatever came of this. She wasn't exactly innocent and she would rather get on with it, face her punishment and be done with it.

The door opened to reveal the most unlikely pair she'd ever seen.

"You're questioning her without a lawyer present?" her father growled. "Don't say another word, Rinoa."

Laguna wore a sheepish smile and a slightly rumpled suit, and he raised his hand in greeting. Rinoa could only blink in return, left without words. Laguna, she expected to come to her aid. Caraway, not so much, but there he was, prepared to use his political leverage to defend her.

These two united behind anything was like a dog befriending a poisonous snake. Her father thought Laguna a bumbling idiot; Laguna thought Caraway an uptight stiff. The two stood on opposite sides of the political spectrum and were often at odds over world issues. Her father believed a country should be ruled with an iron fist and Laguna, believed in a laissez faire approach, within the limits of the law. Rinoa got choked up to see them put aside their differences on her behalf.

"Don't worry, sweetie," Laguna said. "Your lawyer's on the way."

"Is my daughter being charged with anything?" Caraway demanded.

"The murder of Lacey Kilroy," the detective stated. "And pending an investigation, Lance Kilroy as well."

"Perhaps we can come to an agreement," Caraway said.

"Dollet is not under Galbadian rule, Caraway," the detective said. "I don't care if you're the President or not, your daughter committed a crime."

"Unless you'd like the bulk of my army at your back door, I suggest you press your charges, allow me to post bail and take her into my custody until the investigation is over, charges are dropped, or the trial is at an end."

"Daddy," Rinoa said in surprise.

"Be quiet Rinoa," Caraway said coldly.

"That sounds like a threat," the detective said.

"No threat," Caraway said. "Just a reasonable solution to the problem."

Unnerved by the prospect of being remanded to her father's custody, Rinoa shivered and cast a glance at Laguna. He stood back, his posture casual as he observed the scene, but added nothing to the discussion.

Did that mean a holding cell in Galbadia? Or did Caraway intend to lock her in her room until this was over? Neither sounded like a pleasant experience. Though Rinoa knew her father cared, he still treated her like a poorly behaved child, and returning to that house was less than ideal, but a Galbadian prison was worse.

"You and I both know you do not have the means to detain a Sorceress," Caraway continued. "Especially not one of Rinoa's ability."

"We're proposing Rinoa be kept in Esthar until this is resolved," Laguna chimed in. "I have the means and resources at my disposal to keep her both secured and comfortable. Dr. Odine is preparing a holding space, equipped with the strongest anti-magic barrier available. Additionally, SeeD will be contracted and placed on guard 24-7."

"And who are you?" the detective asked.

"This is Laguna Loire," Caraway said. "President of Esthar."

The detective clamped his mouth shut and his eyes widened. His eyes flicked back and forth between the two men before they fell on Rinoa, who just shrugged her response.

As her father, Laguna and the detective debated about what to do with her, Rinoa bristled at the idea of be held in Odine's lab. That, in her mind, was far worse than either of the other two options. She was no fan of the crazed, perverse Dr. Odine. Visits to his clinic had always made her feel unclean afterward, like she'd been violated in some way.

As she listened to them discuss arrangements, Rinoa realized, once again, her fate was not in her own hands.

* * *

 

Squall arrived at the Delacroix estate to find the gate wide open and the place all but deserted. Before him, the remains of the massive house loomed on the hill, windows busted out, the gray stone blackened by soot. The roof was gone and the east wall crumbled. The scent of smoke and melted plastic permeated the air and the once pristine lawn was littered with charred debris.

"Woah," Lily said as she stared wide eyed through the windshield.

"Yeah," Squall agreed.

Near the front steps, Florian Delacroix sat facing the house. He didn't turn when he heard the truck engine shut off but he sat up straighter and ran a hand through his windblown hair.

"Stay put, Lil," Squall said. "I'll only be a few minutes."

He got out of the truck, clutching the check in his hand. Slowly, he made his way up the brick sidewalk to stand next to the wheelchair bound man.

"Ridiculous monstrosity," Florian said, his eyes on the charred stone walls. "Good riddance."

Squall said nothing.

"The only thing that survived the fire is the vault," Delacroix said, "and part of the control room."

"Not surprising," Squall said.

"Do you think you could do me one last favor, Mr. Leonhart?" he asked. "There are two items inside that vault that are very dear to me. If you'd be so kind as to retrieve them?"

Squall shrugged. He wanted to tell the guy to get bent. Days ago, Squall had been furious with the man but now, he could barely muster mild annoyance. Though he still didn't understand Delacroix' motivations, Squall no longer cared what they were.

"Electronics are probably shot," Squall said. "Do you have the override key?"

Delacroix fished a set of keys from his belt and offered them to Squall. Squall immediately identified the one he needed.

"What am I looking for?" Squall asked.

"Please bring me Rinoa's wedding set and the envelope on the bottom shelf of the jewel safe."

This wasn't what Squall had come here to do, but he couldn't say no.

Squall entered the ruined house through the front door and stepped into the once grand foyer. Nothing remained of the staircase or even the walls, aside from the stone support pillars. Bright sunlight spilled onto the blackened and still-wet floor, the air redolent with the odor of dampness and burned things. It only served to remind him how close to death he come twice in one night.

From where he stood, he could see the vault and the remains of the library's stone fireplace. He picked his way over unidentifiable rubble and bits of roof until he found himself standing in front of the fire blasted door of the vault. Here, the distinct odor of burnt paper was strong, and he imagined how dismayed Rinoa would be to know there was nothing left of the beautiful library she loved so much.

He inserted the key, unsure if it would even open the door, but when he turned it, there came the tell-tale click of the mechanism engaging. Everything was as he left it – priceless paintings still sat untouched under drop cloths and the priceless Galbadian vases stood on the shelves, and various other relics hidden away from the world and spared the blaze by four feet of blast walls.

At the back of the vault, he entered the combination for the jewel safe. Inside, he located the stunning set of diamonds that served as Squall's reintroduction to his Sorceress, a tangible reminder that he could never afford to give her anything like this.

He expected a bundle of cash in the envelope Delacroix requested, but it contained photographs of Danielle.

When Squall returned to Delacroix on the sidewalk, he handed the items over. Delacroix placed both in his lap and stared up at the house again in silence.

"You wanted to discuss something?" Delacroix finally asked.

"Yeah," Squall said. He held out the envelope containing the check. "I can't take this."

"Of course you can," Delacroix said. "You earned it."

"A job like this one runs about eighty-thousand, tops," Squall said. "Even with a bonus...it's too much."

"You put yourself at a great risk at my request, Leonhart. I don't think any amount could adequately cover your life, or Rinoa's," Delacroix said. "I know you both came very close, as did your niece."

"Are you trying to buy me off?" Squall asked. "Is that it?"

"Nothing of the sort," Delacroix said. "You did a good job. You're being compensated for it."

Squall shook his head and dropped the envelope into the man's lap.

"I don't need your charity."

"Who said anything about charity?" Delacroix asked. "I have more money than I'll ever spend on my own. The least I can do is pay well for a job well done."

Squall shook his head as Delacroix pressed the envelope back into his hand. Squall refused to accept it.

"Take the money, Leonhart."

"I steal your wife and you give me 20 million gil?" Squall asked. "That makes no sense."

"Perhaps not to you," Delacroix said. "But would you believe this is the way I wanted it?"

"What?" Squall asked.

"She wasn't happy," Delacroix said as he looked up at the house. "I gave her everything she ever wanted and then some, even though she never asked for it. Put my reputation on the line to free Timber, gave her free reign to do as she pleased, with whomever she pleased, and still, she wasn't happy."

Delacroix sighed.

"I know from experience what the bond does. It makes it impossible to completely give your heart to another, and I can't blame her for that. Or you. I thought we could escape it, but both you and I know, it isn't that easy."

Delacroix held out the envelope and the boxed diamonds to Squall.

"Take it. Take care of her."

Squall shook his head again, stunned by the man's odd brand of generosity. For the first time, Squall saw what Rinoa must have seen in him. Selflessness was a rare enough quality among the general population. To see it in a man who had billions at his disposal, a man who was used to getting what he wanted was even rarer, and Squall's dislike of the man turned to respect, and respect was the last thing he ever thought he'd feel for Delacroix after all that had happened.

He pocketed the envelope and the diamonds, and headed back to the truck where Lily was waiting with the stereo blasting. Squall turned it down and started the truck in a sort of daze. Lily's eyes on him were curious but she stayed silent as he drove off the property.

They stopped for groceries on the way home. The weight of the diamonds in his pockets was a constant reminder of the past month, the present drama and the possible future. It was all he could think about as he wandered the aisles, following Lily. Things went into the cart, chosen almost at random. Meat, bread, produce, dairy. Methodical, but not deliberate. In a haze, he paid and loaded the purchases into the car.

It wasn't until they put everything away and Squall was in the process of making a late breakfast that Lily finally broke the silence.

"Am I going to have to go to jail, too?"

"No," he said. "You don't need to worry about that."

"But I killed someone."

"In self-defense."

"Didn't Rinoa kill that lady in self-defense?"

Squall didn't want to get into the particulars of why Rinoa would be charged and Lily wouldn't, but he owed her an explanation, if only to calm her fear of being taken away from him.

"You're not a Sorceress," he said.

"What's the difference?" Lily asked. "They were trying to hurt us."

"It's complicated, Lil," Squall said. "You're a kid. Rinoa isn't, and she used her magic in a way that some might see as excessive."

He could tell by the look on her face that she didn't understand. In her mind, they had done the same thing and found it unfair that Rinoa faced punishment and she didn't.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know how to explain it," Squall said.

"Try," Lily demanded. "I'm not stupid."

There was a very adult-like expression on Lily's face and Squall was suddenly aware that once again, he underestimated her ability to understand. She might be young, she wasn't stupid. Trying to sugar coat it to spare her would be an injustice Lily didn't deserve.

So he told her the truth. He told her everything as they sat down to a breakfast of eggs and pancakes and sausage. He left out the graphic details but described the torment Lacey had put Rinoa through. He talked about all the anger and fear Rinoa felt, and how thinking he was dead pushed her to her limit and she did things she wouldn't normally do.

Lily accepted his explanation, but Squall could tell there was something on her mind as they washed the dishes together. Her frown was one of contemplation, like she was thinking hard about how to ask her next question.

"How come you kissed her like that?" she finally asked.

"Because I love her."

"She's married."

Squall pressed a hand to his forehead. How to explain the complexities of adult relationships or try to justify himself to a kid? Squall didn't want her thinking he condoned cheating because he didn't. He could barely justify it to himself, and on some level, he did fee guilty.

Though it wasn't noon yet, he retrieved a beer from the fridge and cracked it open. Lily frowned in disapproval.

"Yes," he said. "She's married."

"Isn't that cheating?"

"It is," he admitted.

"I thought cheating was bad," Lily said, looking worried.

"You're right," he said. "And nothing I can tell you will make it right."

Lily blinked at him a few times as she struggled with the idea that her play-by-all-the-rules uncle broke a rule she viewed as sacred.

She looked so disappointed in him. Enough to make him feel guilty about not waiting for the divorce to be finalized. He didn't know how to explain his motivations to a child that had not yet experienced the complexities of romantic love and, Hyne willing, would never experience the irresistible force of a Sorceress-Knight bond?

"Sometimes, people don't marry for love," he said. "Sometimes, it's more like a business deal. Each brings something to the marriage that benefits the other. Money in exchange for power, or a respected family name."

"That's stupid," Lily said.

"It works for some people, Lil," he said. "And for some people, that's enough. Rinoa thought that's what she wanted, but she was wrong."

"So, she didn't love him?"

"In her own way she did," he said. "Just more like a friend."

Lily chewed on her bottom lip and stared into the sink for a minute.

"That's weird," she said.

"To each their own."

"How come she didn't marry you?" Lily asked. "She was your girlfriend a long time ago, right? You loved each other."

"I wanted to," he admitted. "She wanted different things, and...there were a lot of things that got in the way back then."

"Are you going to marry her now?"

"I don't know, Lil," he said. "We'll see."

Lily finished drying the last of the dishes in silence. Squall finished cleaning the table and drank his beer, thinking of Rinoa and what she must be facing. The fact that there was nothing he could do to help her was frustrating.

"Does she make you happy?" Lily asked.

"Yes," Squall said.

"And you're her Knight."

"I am."

"Then... You're supposed to be together," Lily said. "Right?"

"You think so?"

Lily nodded. Big brown eyes just like Ellone's stared back at him.

"I just want you to be happy," Lily said.

Squall dropped an arm around Lily's shoulders and gave her a little squeeze.

"You and me both, kid," he said.

Lily stared into the sink.

"Do you wanna talk about anything?" he asked. "Before Laguna gets here?"

She shook her head and darkness crept into her eyes.

"I'm fine."

But Squall knew she wasn't.

* * *

 

Rinoa arrived in Esthar the following morning and was immediately escorted to Dr. Odine's lab. She cringed at the sight of the building and her heart gave a hard squeeze of fear. She was sure to hate whatever awaited her on the inside, and though Laguna had assured her Odine would not be performing any exams beyond the cursory check-up, the very thought of letting the man near her turned her stomach.

Inside, she was greeted by the creepy little doctor and a small team of SeeDs. In spite of her dislike of being captive, her mood brightened when she saw the SeeD in charge.

"Blaise!" she cried. "What are you doing here?"

"President Loire thought we could use a little time to get to know one another," he said.

At her side, her father stood stiffly, clearly uncomfortable. It only took a glance at his stunned expression to tell no one informed him Blaise would be here.

"President Caraway," Blaise said and offered his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Caraway shook the boy's hand stiffly, his face a picture of both curiosity and barely restrained anger. Blaise's face gave nothing away. He remained cool and collected, just like the SeeD he was, but Rinoa noticed the hard look in his eye. Confronting the man who denied him, the man who deserted his mother must have been difficult.

"The pleasure's all mine, son," Caraway said. "Thrilled to finally meet you."

"Are you?" Blaise asked softly. Then he turned to Rinoa with a smile. "Let's get you settled."

Rinoa followed Blaise into a room off the main corridor. It was more pleasant than she expected. Though there was no window, the space was brightly lit and filled with comfortable furniture and piles and piles of books. If this was where she was to be held until the investigation was over or the trial ended, Rinoa was fine with it. Better than being locked in her father's house or rotting underground in D-District. So long as Odine kept his needles and his insane curiosity away from her, she could tolerate this arrangement.

"The room is equipped with the strongest anti-magic barrier there is," Laguna informed her. "I don't think it's necessary, but I'm sure you understand."

Rinoa nodded and dropped into a comfortable chair in the sitting area.

"How's Squall?" she asked. "Have you heard from him?"

"Had dinner with him last night," Laguna said, taking a seat. "Hard to tell, but I think he's handling it."

Rinoa was glad to hear it. She worried that when Laguna broke the news he would not be able to contact her, he would freak out. Even across the miles, she sensed his worry and anxiety. All she had to comfort her was the memory of their last night together.

"And Lily?"

Laguna's face fell.

"She's having a hard time," Laguna said.

"She needs you, too," Rinoa reminded him. "She might be angry, but don't let that stop her from being there for her, Laguna. Don't let her grow up thinking you don't care."

Rinoa's words visibly stung Caraway. His eyes filled with regret, then he turned away and left the room. A lump formed in Rinoa's throat as sudden understanding dawned on her. Her words hurt him.

"I'll go get him," Laguna said. "Blaise?"

"Yes, sir," Blaise said, leaving Rinoa in the room alone.

When Caraway returned, the man was shamefaced and his eyes bloodshot. Rinoa had never seen her father cry, and to know her words wounded him left her feeling as hurt as he looked.

They sat in silence, neither looking at the other as the weight of their history settled around them like dust. All the unkind words and disagreements bounced around inside Rinoa's head like shots fired in the dark. All the years of being treated like a child or being ignored made her want to deny him the way he'd denied her all these years. Yet the man sitting before her was not a man without a heart or a conscience. That was plain to see as tears rolled down his cheeks and his defeated posture admitted his guilt.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"For never being there."

"You're forgiven for that," Rinoa said. "I understand why you weren't there. What I don't understand is why you would allow your son to grow up in an orphanage. Why you would deny he was yours."

"It's complicated."

"Everything in life is complicated, dad," she said. "You denied yourself the privilege of knowing him. Of being his father, for the sake of your pride and your image. That's why I'm angry with you. For lying and for never giving me the chance to know him."

Caraway sniffled. "You're not wrong."

"It isn't too late, you know," she said. "To get to know him. Or me."

He looked up at her in surprise, as if he'd expected her to tell him to get lost for good. Caraway would win no father of the year awards, but he was still her father.

"Why don't the three of us have dinner," she suggested. "Clean slate, no expectations, just a conversation."

Caraway bowed his head again. "Thank you."

* * *

 

On Monday, it was business as usual for Squall. He sat in his office catching up on orders while Lily had commandeered his secretary's desk to listlessly doodle in her sketchbook. Squall wanted her back in school, but she begged for one more day to get her head straight and Squall caved without a fight. He knew the real reason she didn't want to go, and it had nothing to do with bullies this time. She didn't want to let him out of her sight.

Once he finished his orders, he checked his bank balance to ensure Delacroix' check had been deposited. There was a confirmation message that the transfer to Seifer's account was complete and Squall sat back, watching Lily for a second before he returned to his work.

When his phone rang, Squall smiled to himself and answered without looking to see who it was.

"Loire."

"Care to explain why you just deposited ten million Gil in my account?" Seifer demanded.

"Your half of the Delacroix job."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

There was no mistaking the excitement in Seifer's voice.

"Is there a problem?"

Squall laughed at the sound of Seifer rendered speechless.

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah," Squall agreed. "Pretty much my reaction."

"Well, I guess I know how we're gonna pay for the wedding," Seifer mused.

Wedding? Squall wasn't sure what Seifer was talking about. Then, he remembered Seifer and Quistis were seeing one another in secret, and it dawned on him, maybe it was more serious than Seifer let on.

In hindsight, Squall should have known. Seifer didn't sulk when a relationship ended. He just moved on to the next blonde without batting an eye.

"I think you forgot to mention that," Squall said. "Wait, it _is_ Quistis, right?"

"Shut up."

"Shut up? Is that the best you can do?" Squall taunted. "Man, love's made you soft."

"Look who's talking."

Squall didn't have a response for that. He was actively trying to not think of Rinoa.

"Any word?" Seifer asked. "How's the investigation going?"

"Laguna assures me she's fine," Squall said. "Bored, but fine."

"Hope it isn't too much longer," Seifer said. "Quistis really wants her to come. I do too."

"When is it?"

"I don't remember the date," Seifer admitted. "Quistis will be sending out the invites in a few days, though."

"You're getting married and you don't know when it is?"

"I don't give a shit about the ceremony part," Seifer said. "I just wanna fucking get married."

"Well, congrats, Almasy. I'm happy for you."

Squall was happy, but in truth, he was also jealous. Seifer would get to plan for his future with Quistis while Squall waited in limbo to begin his. His fate was irrevocably tied with Rinoa's. The outcome of the investigation would determine his fate and his future. There was no way around that.

"I want you to stand up for me," Seifer said.

"Sure," Squall said. "Be happy to."

"Thanks, buddy," Seifer said. "So, what are you gonna do with your half of the money?"

"Probably spend it on strippers and vodka."

Seifer snorted. "Careful, you're in danger of developing a sense of humor."

"I haven't thought about it, honestly," Squall said. "It hasn't really been a priority."

"How can it not be?" Seifer asked. "Money's been in my account for all of ten minutes and it's already burning a hole in my pocket."

"I don't know," Squall said. "Probably put in in trust for Lil. That way she has something to fall back on."

"Yeah," Seifer agreed. "Just don't forget you earned every Gil of that money. Buy yourself something pretty."

"Maybe I will," Squall said.

"All right," Seifer said. "Gotta run, but... I owe you for this."

"You don't owe me shit," Squall disagreed. "Talk to you later."

He dropped the phone on the desk and turned his gaze toward Lily, who glanced up at him disinterestedly and then returned her attention to her sketchbook.

She hadn't said much during their dinner with Laguna and except to plead her case for not going to school, she reverted back into the sullen girl she'd been a month ago. Squall knew this was the consequence of what had happened, but it bothered him to see that spark of mischief absent from her eyes. He wanted her to know everything would be fine in the long run, but he couldn't find the words to tell her that. Maybe because he didn't believe it himself.

His thoughts turned to the problem of how insecure he felt in his own home. The place didn't feel right to him anymore. It didn't feel safe. Maybe it was because someone violated his space. Or maybe because it was just a rental. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was time for something different.

Maybe...

"Hey, Lil?"

She looked up from her drawing and lifted an eyebrow.

"I've been thinking," he said. "Maybe we need a fresh start."

Lily dropped her pencil and stared at him blank-faced for a moment.

"Where are we moving this time?"

"No where," he promised. "But, I thought maybe we'd go house hunting this weekend."

"House hunting?" She looked genuinely perplexed by the suggestion.

"House hunting," Squall confirmed.

"Why do you want me to go?" she asked.

"Because you have to live there too," he said. "You're stuck with me for at least eight more years, so I want your input. And I thought it might be fun to go look together."

"You're such a dork," Lily said. "Only you would think looking at houses was fun."

That was the Lily Squall knew. He smiled and held out a hand, beckoning her to him. She blinked at him a few times before she got to her feet and came to his side. As she propped herself against his knee, he took both of her hands in his.

"So, are you in?" he asked.

"I guess. Since I'm stuck with you and all."

"Just you and me, kiddo."

"Yeah," she said softly. There were tears in her eyes. "You and me."

Squall wiped the tears away as they spilled down her cheeks, half-wishing he could GF her to make her forget the bad things, but that came at a price. She would forget the good things, too, and she was just a kid.

"It's going to get better," he said. "And... I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

Lily nodded and sniffled a little.

"I love you, kiddo."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and wrapped both arms around her waist, feeling absolute and unconditional love as he drew her closer.

"If you ever want to talk about stuff, I'm here. And you can talk to me Lil. I'll always be here to listen, okay?"

"I just want to forget all about it," she said. Tears crept into her voice. "All of it."

"I know," he said. "Me too, but forgetting things... even the bad things… It comes back to haunt you later."

She sniffled against his shoulder and then shifted away.

"You were a SeeD," she said. "You killed people. How did you do it without feeling horrible?"

Squall sighed and dropped his eyes to the desk for a moment before returning them to her.

"I was trained to deal with the consequences," he said. "When it comes to a situation like that, it's not a person but an obstacle. Something standing between me and my goal. If that goal is staying alive... well, I was taught to consider it collateral damage."

"You never felt bad?"

"I tried not to think about it," he admitted. "I never liked doing it, though. Part of me knew the ones I had to kill were people with families and loved ones, but... When someone's standing there pointing a gun at you, or trying to kill you, it doesn't matter who they are. Sometimes, you don't get a choice."

"Did you ever have a choice, when you had to kill someone?"

"...no," he said. He sighed and brushed the bangs from her eyes. "I want you to know, you did the right thing, Lil. I know you feel bad about it, but it was either him or you. You did exactly what needed to be done."

Lily nodded, but looked at her hands.

"I wish you didn't have to, Lil," he said. "I never wanted you to have to know what it's like to have no choice. Hyne willing, you'll never have to do it again."

Lily was quiet for a long time, eyes on her hands. She turned them over a few times as if expecting to see blood staining them the way her paints sometimes did.

"I'm sorry for being such a brat," she finally said.

"You're forgiven," he said.

"Would it be okay if..." she began as she looked up at him. Those big brown eyes made Squall melt. Whatever she was about to ask, he would most certainly give it to her. She faltered and looked at her hands again. "Would it be okay if I called you dad sometimes? I never knew mine and... you're the only one I ever really had."

This wasn't what he expected her to ask. He thought she might want another day off of school, or maybe to be allowed to go have pizza with her friend Jake or even a few art supplies. He swallowed hard and tried to hold back the tears forming in his own eyes.

Squall had not thought about being anyone's father in a long time. Back when he and Rinoa were still happy together, it was a thought that crept in from time to time. In the abstract, it was something he very much wanted eventually, yet the reality of it terrified him. He was a SeeD, and the risks of starting a family in that situation were too great to consider.

Now, as Lily asked the thing she needed most from him, he realized it was something he wanted too. Not just to be her guardian on paper and a father in practice, but in name as well.

"I'd really like that, Lil," he choked out. "A lot."

"Really?"

"Really," he promised.

"I didn't think you'd say yes."

"For better or worse, Lil, you're my girl," he said, adding a small smile as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "If you want, we can make it official."

"What, like adopt me?"

"If you want."

"Do I have to change my last name?"

"Not if you don't want to."

For the first time in days, Lily smiled for real.

* * *

 

"You're terrible at this," Blaise said with a smirk as he claimed Rinoa's most valuable Triple Triad card for his own. "You sure you've played before?"

Rinoa frowned and threw the remainder of her cards at him before bursting into laughter.

"I never said I was any good," she said.

"We should probably play a different game," he said. "Before I take you for everything you've got."

"That's a good idea," Rinoa agreed. "What are you up for?"

Blaise scratched his head and looked down at the table.

"Actually," he said. "Maybe we should talk."

They spent the last three days avoiding the important stuff. Save their awkward and uncomfortable meal with Caraway, in which everyone was overly formal, they played board games and watched movies while awaiting word from Dollet. So far, there wasn't much and Rinoa was bored out of her mind.

"Okay," Rinoa agreed. "What do you want to talk about?"

Blaise floundered. After a moment, he got up and sat beside her.

"Was he ever kind to you?"

Rinoa nodded slowly, thinking back to the early years when her father's coldness wasn't quite so cold.

"Sometimes," she said. "He wasn't around enough for it to happen often. I've come to accept that he won't ever be the loving, doting father I always wanted. He just isn't capable of it."

"Do you ever worry that you'll wind up like that?" he asked. "Because I do. Seeing him, meeting him... I wonder what I got from him besides the obvious."

"The fact that you worry about that means that you aren't like him," Rinoa said gently. "It would never occur to him he's done anything wrong."

"You don't know what it felt like, meeting him in person," Blaise said. "I don't blame my mother for making the choices she made, but I do blame him for forcing her hand. I'm pissed about that. What right did he have to treat her that way?"

"I can't speak for him, Blaise," she said. "I don't know. But I will say, I wish to Hyne I knew about you. I would have been the best big sister ever."

Blaise's lips quirked into a weak smile and he reached over to pat her knee.

"I bet we would have been holy terrors," he said. "I was a bad kid."

"I bet you weren't."

"Oh, believe me, I was," he said with a soft laugh. "Into everything, always in trouble."

"Was this before or after Garden?"

"Both," he said. "I hold the G-Garden record for most stays in detention."

"No you don't," Rinoa said.

"It's true," he said. "I question things too much. It was never enough for me to just accept that things were the way they were, you know? A SeeD is supposed to remain objective, but to me objectivity always felt like indifference and I hated being told I couldn't have an opinion. It led to a lot of fights with students and sometimes instructors...It's a miracle they didn't throw me out."

"Wow," Rinoa said. "You sound just like me."

Blaise was quiet for nearly a full minute before he spoke again.

"This is hard," he said. "Getting used to the idea of having a family."

Blaise didn't know it, but he and Squall had a lot in common. Squall struggled with the concept of family, with accepting there was more to the world besides Garden and SeeD and responsibilities.

"I bet it is," she said. "What about the family that adopted you?"

Blaise sighed and turned his eyes to the floor.

"They never made it official," he said. "I was a foster kid, and they took me in thinking they couldn't have kids of their own, so the plan was to adopt me, but my foster mom never felt any connection. To be honest, what I remember, I didn't either. So, when she got pregnant, they didn't need me anymore."

"That's cruel."

"Yeah," he agreed. "But in the long run, it was for the best. It might have been worse to grow up being the unwanted kid they took in because they thought they had no other option."

Rinoa's heart went out to him. No child should ever go without family or love, and the more she knew of the world, the more she learned, it was too common.

"Maybe," Rinoa said. "It still sucks."

"I spent years telling myself I didn't care," he said. "I didn't want to know. Then Ian contacted me. I didn't believe him, but he pestered me until I gave in and agreed to meet my mother. I was glad I did."

Rinoa only briefly met Lorraine, and only through Ian. It was hard to imagine Ian's all-business assistant involved with her father in any capacity, but the evidence was sitting right next to her.

They talked for a while longer, about less important or emotional things until Laguna popped his head in the door, a large envelope in his hands.

"This came for you," he said. "Looks important."

Rinoa tore open the envelope and nearly cried when she saw what was inside. She wasted no time signing the documents, then returned them to the envelope and handed them back to Laguna. Signing them wasn't just bringing about the end of a marriage, but also the end of a friendship, and that hurt more than she thought it would.

"Can you see these get back to Florian?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Any news?" Rinoa asked.

"Not about your case," Laguna said, scratching his head. "But Squall filed paperwork this morning to adopt Lily. The hearing is next week."

Rinoa had known the moment the two had stepped into her library that Squall felt more than just the obligation where Lily was concerned. Over the last month, she'd seen the protective, paternal affection and love he had for his niece. This decision was more than just Squall wanting Lily to feel secure, and Rinoa was happy for them both.

Rinoa was already very fond of Lily, a sisterly sort of affection that could easily become more in time. She didn't allow herself to picture it, the three of them as a family. She didn't think about Saturday afternoons shopping trips with Lily or nights spent in Squall's arms. She didn't think about the children they might have or Lily's excitement at being a big sister. She didn't think about any of these things and she couldn't stop thinking about them.

"That's great," Rinoa said. "I wish I could be there."

Laguna patted on the arm and offered a sad smile.

"You'll be there in spirit."

* * *

 

The house sat atop a cliff, overlooking Dollet's Lapin beach. As Squall looked around, Lily took in the view from the porch. Her requirements for houses were far less stringent than Squall's but she asked for two things: a nice view and a yard where she could try her hand at growing tomatoes and hot peppers. This house had both, as well as the spacious kitchen, living area and four bedrooms Squall required.

"Why is it so cheap?" Squall asked the real estate agent as he inspected the pipes under the kitchen sink. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing in particular," she said. "Other than the obvious need for cosmetic updates."

The decorating scheme was horrendous. Ugly and badly applied wall paper that didn't match the paint or carpet, and outside, the paint peeled and the yard was wild and in need of landscaping.

"This neighborhood tends to attract people who aren't interested in a fixer-uper," the agent said. "Most of them want a place that's move-in ready. That's why it hasn't sold yet."

Squall nodded and turned his attention to the appliances. All but the refrigerator was new.

Upstairs, there were three bedrooms, a small office and a bonus room with built in bookshelves, a lot of natural light streaming in from both east and north, and a nook in the bay window that looked out over the sea. Squall thought it might make a good studio for Lily to paint in.

The master bedroom was huge, with its own bath and dressing room. The other two bedrooms were spacious with big closets and the second bath would provide Lily with her own private space.

The place was nearly perfect, cosmetic issues aside.

"What do you think, Lil?" he asked.

"I like this one."

"Better than the one by school?"

"That one didn't have a view of the ocean," Lily said.

"You'd have to help me remodel," he said. "Paint's pretty ugly in here. A lot of work to do."

"Lucky for you, I like painting stuff, huh?"

Squall smiled. She didn't see repainting every room as a chore but a challenge.

"You have to let me pick the colors, though," she said.

"Do I?" Squall asked, amused.

Lily rolled her eyes. "If I let you have your way, you'll just paint everything beige."

"Beige is practical."

"Boring," she said and rolled her eyes.

Squall chuckled and dropped his arm around her shoulders.

"All right, Lil. If this is the one you like, then we'll take it."

"Yes!" she cried.


	18. Chapter 18

Squall sat at the back of the courtroom, watching Miranda DeLong's hearing with great interest. He wasn't supposed to be there, but his adoption pre-interviews were in the same building and he'd slipped in while child services interviewed Lily privately. He only planned to stay a few minutes, but he found himself immersed in the proceedings.

So far, none of the information was new, but that didn't mean he wasn't interested in what the woman had to say. Up on the stand, Miranda wore an expensive pant suit, a strand of pearls around her neck. She looked every bit the rich man's pampered, vapid wife, but the words coming out of her mouth spoke of a darker and more conniving side than anyone around her suspected her capable of.

The papers and televised news were having a field day with the case, the tabloids full of tales about the trio of millionaire murderesses. The press was split between sympathy for Rinoa and vilification, but the three women responsible earned no one's pity. That was a good sign, in Squall's book. If no one could empathize with their cause or actions, Rinoa looked less guilty.

Squall's name was left out of the whole affair, much to his surprise. If he came up at all, they referred to him as the head of security. The press assumed they meant Gary Ballas, who was on an extended leave due to an undisclosed injury and could not be contacted for comment.

Whether it was his father or Delacroix's doing, Squall didn't know, but he was thankful just the same. It meant Lily wouldn't worry so much about him being taken away.

"Lacey contracted four hit men," Miranda said. "Two to take out the Ironclad Security team Florian hired, and two to kidnap Mrs. Delacroix."

"Who gave her the contact information for these hit men?"

"Jackie Dumas."

Squall suspected from the beginning Dumas' mafia connections were involved. Whether the man himself was also involved remained to be seen, but it was no surprise Mrs. Dumas provided the resources. With their mob connections, it would have been a bigger surprise if she hadn't.

"What happened then?"

"I'm sure all that's in the police report," Miranda said haughtily.

"I'd like to hear it in your words," the prosecutor said.

"All I know is they killed two guys in a warehouse somewhere in Deling City," Miranda said. "She never told me where."

"And you knew about this before these murders and attempted kidnapping took place?"

"No, she told me after, when I heard about the attack on Mrs. Delacroix. Lacey was really upset that her plan didn't work."

"And these hit men were drugged with Funguar?"

"As far as I know."

"Why?"

"Lacey believed it was part of the ritual," Miranda said. "It brought them closer to Hyne while doing Hyne's work."

"And what do you believe?"

"I believe it made them unreliable witnesses," Miranda said. "Should they be caught, their testimony would be inadmissible."

That was probably the truth. As with the party guests, any and all testimony would be colored by the effects of the drug. It would be difficult, if not impossible to obtain an accurate chain of events when the suspects saw demons, tiny t-rexaurs or in Seifer's case so long ago, flying death monkeys.

"Did you know about what Lacey Killroy had done to Danielle Wilkins?"

"...yes."

"When did you learn of it?"

"The night it happened."

There was a beep from Squall's phone. His time was up. Though he wished to stay, he got up from his place on the bench and left.

Lily was just finishing up when he entered the waiting area and she flashed a hesitant smile.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"Pretty good, I think," she said. "They asked a lot of questions."

"They have to, kiddo. They have to make sure that you'll be taken care of."

"And that you're not crazy," Lily said.

"Did they ask about that?" Squall wondered.

"Yeah."

"What did you tell them?"

"That you're a total psycho who makes me get up early on the weekend to alphabetize the contents of the fridge."

"That all?" Squall asked. "You didn't tell them about all the abuse and child labor?"

"Well, I told them you make me live in the basement and beat me with pillows when I'm bad."

"We don't have a basement, Lil."

Lily burst out laughing and Squall couldn't help but smile back. He straightened the collar of her dress and smoothed back her hair.

"Goofball."

"Dork."

"Mr. Leonhart?"

Lily's smile dropped away and her hand found Squall's as their case worker approached. Wanda Merle was a plump woman in her fifties with kind eyes and a stern but matronly demeanor. She told Squall in the beginning her greatest concern was Lily's well being, and Squall was inclined to believe her. So far, she'd been compassionate but also no-nonsense about getting the process started.

"Let's talk in my office," she said.

Inside Ms. Merle's office, Squall took a seat and Lily sat next to him, still hanging onto his hand.

"Everything seems to be in order," Ms. Merle said. "After speaking with Lily, I understand that you have gone to great lengths to provide a comfortable and safe environment for her, Mr. Leonhart, so pending the home welfare check, I see no reason not to proceed. Do you have any questions for me?"

"What happens next?" Lily asked before Squall could.

"Well, there will be an official hearing to allow for any additional information to be presented and all parties involved to have a chance to give any pertinent input," Ms. Merle said. "Following that, you can choose to keep Loire or take Leonhart as your last name. Then the judge will make an official ruling."

"Can I use both?" Lily asked. "I want to keep my mom's name, but if Squall's gonna be my dad, then I should be a Leonhart, too."

"You can hyphenate, if you want. Leonhart-Loire or the other way around. Whichever you like."

Lily giggled all of a sudden. Squall glanced at her in curiosity.

"I'm gonna have a really cool signature," she explained.

"You have a couple weeks to decide," Ms. Merle said with a smile. "Any other questions?"

"I think Lily covered it," Squall said.

"Please, give me a call if you think of anything," the woman said. "It's been a pleasure meeting you and Lily, Mr. Leonhart."

"Likewise, and thank you."

As they headed to the car Lily suddenly stopped walking. The look on her face was strange. Not quite sad, not quite happy and she appeared to be struggling with something.

"What's up?" he asked.

Lily shook her head and then launched herself at him, her skinny arms going around his waist, her face pressed into his side.

"You okay?" he asked, unsure of what this was.

She nodded and pulled away, embarrassed.

"I just wanted to hug you."

Squall dragged a hand over her hair, relieved it wasn't something else.

"You had me worried for a second."

"I'm okay," she promised. "I'm just really happy."

"Me too, kiddo," he promised. "Now, how about we head home and get changed and maybe go out for pizza?"

"Can we invite Jake?"

"Sure."

* * *

Two hours later, Squall was rethinking that decision. They passed on pizza with Jake the week before because Lily wasn't feeling up to it, so Squall had no idea what was in store for him.

The place was not a typical pizza establishment but a restaurant that catered to kids, complete with arcade games, a ball pit and a stage full of mechanical singing moogles. Kids of all ages and sizes ran in every direction like they'd been set on fire. It was only for Lily's benefit that he didn't turn around and walk out.

They picked a table as far away from the arcade and the ball pit as Squall could find and sat down to wait for Jake and his mother to arrive. Lily's original plan for this may have involved setting him up with Jake's mother, and that added an extra level of discomfort to the already chaotic environment.

"You look like you're gonna freak out," Lily said.

"I'm fine. It's just not what I expected."

Just then, the animatronic moogles began to play tinny but loud recorded music, their jerky movements awkward and unnatural. Worse, their eyes lit up from within, giving them a weird, demonic and vaguely threatening appearance. If he'd been a kid, those things would have scared the crap out of him. He frowned at the stage, and tried not to feel like he'd landed in a previously unknown but exceptionally terrifying version of hell.

"You hate this, don't you?" Lily asked knowingly.

"I'll survive."

He suffered through two songs and breathed a sigh of relief when the stage lights died and the over-large moogles stopped moving. He thanked Hyne this wasn't a real date because he would not have been able to struggle through awkward conversation with all the background noise or giant singing moogles leering at him.

When Jake and his mother arrived, Lily jumped up and waved them over, excited to see her friend outside of school. She wasn't totally okay yet, and she still had moments where she retreated into herself, but it was getting better. Seeing her look this happy was reason enough to endure a few hours of robot moogle hell without complaint.

"Hi," Jake's mother said. "Sorry we're late. Someone couldn't make up his mind what shirt he wanted to wear."

"Mom!" Jake complained, his cheeks going red.

"No problem," Squall promised. "Thanks for coming."

She was pretty, about Squall's age, and more than likely a woman he might have been attracted to if Rinoa hadn't come back into his life. To be polite, Squall pulled out her chair, then regretted it because he didn't want her to get any ideas.

"So, you've probably figured out, I'm Elise," she said, sitting down.

"Leo," he said, reverting to his alias.

"Dad, can I have some money?" Lily asked, "I want to play some games."

"Sure," Squall said. He took out his wallet and handed her 20 Gil. "What do you want on your pizza?"

"Whatever you want, but ask if they have hot sauce," she said. "Come on, Jake."

She grabbed the boy by the arm and tugged him toward the arcade, leaving Squall alone with Elise.

"He has such a crush on her," Elise said.

Squall didn't like the idea of a boy having a crush on Lily, but he forced himself to stay neutral. They were only nine. He didn't need to worry about this right now, but Hyne help any boy brave enough to step across his threshold in a few years.

"He's the first friend she's made in over a year," Squall said.

"Ditto for Jake," Elise said. "I was so relived when the two of them hit it off. He's had a hard time since his father died."

"Sorry to hear that, but I understand," Squall said. "Lily lost her mother two years ago. It hasn't been easy. For either of us."

"You're her uncle, right?"

"For another week," Squall said. "We're going through the adoption process now."

Elise smiled a brilliant, charming smile that reminded him of Selphie.

"I'm happy to hear that," she said. "Lily's such a sweet kid."

Squall glanced toward the arcade where Lily and Jake were busy playing "Whack-a-Sandworm," padded mallets in their hands and laughed at each other each time they missed.

"Listen, I know the kids are trying to set us up, but, I just wanted to make it clear, I'm not ready to date," Elise said, the smile fading from her eyes.

"That's alright," Squall said, nearly breathing a sigh of relief. "I'm involved with someone."

"Well, that takes the pressure off, doesn't it?" she said with a small smile.

"It does," Squall agreed.

"Good. Then we're just two parents, hanging out while our kids rob us blind."

* * *

Rinoa was going stir crazy. Even with Blaise and occasionally Laguna for company, she was sick of being locked up. Good thing this wasn't her father's house, or worse, D-district, but just the same, she was bored out of her mind. She already read through the stack of paperback books Laguna brought her and she'd taken to pacing the room for exercise.

"Will you stop doing that?" Blaise said from his place on the couch. "You're driving me nuts."

"Sorry. I'm driving myself nuts," she said. "I just wish this was over with. I want to go home."

Blaise looked at her, dark eyes hooded and inscrutable.

"Where is home?" he asked.

"Wherever Squall is," she said. "And Lily."

Blaise was silent for a while. He opened his book and began to read but then set it aside after a minute, his face troubled.

"How do people like me," he began, "and people like Squall, people who grew up the way we did... How do we ever adjust to a normal life?"

Rinoa blinked at him, stopped pacing and dropped onto the couch beside him. She grabbed hold of Blaise's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"We adapted. They adapted," she said. "Squall and most of the others figured out that it was okay to want something normal. It took a while, but I don't think people are built to live that way for long. And I don't think most of them wouldn't have chosen that path for themselves if they'd had another option. I think about that sometimes. What they might have been otherwise."

"I think about that too," Blaise said. "What's sad is, I don't even know. I don't know what I'd be."

"That's okay," Rinoa promised. "You don't have to know. You have plenty of time to figure it out. If you don't want to be a SeeD, then don't be one."

"It isn't that I don't want to be one," he said. "It's that I don't know anything else."

"Well, sure you do," Rinoa said. "There are plenty of things you could do with your training. You could be an instructor, or you could do something completely different, like start your own business."

He nodded and leaned back into the couch.

"Our father wants me to join the Galbadian Army," he said. "He can't publicly claim me as his son, but he promised to pave my way... Make things happen for me."

There was a deep bitterness in Blaise's voice. Rinoa understood why. Caraway had once offered her the same thing and she'd been bitter about it, too. She didn't believe in riding his coat tails to the top, nor did she have any interest in being in debt to her father for a career she didn't want.

"That sounds like him," Rinoa said. "Are you considering it?"

"No."

"Good for you," Rinoa said. "Knowing what you don't want to do is a step in the right direction."

Blaise looked at her. His face was a reflection of her own, but with the same hard-edged expression her father wore.

"Did you know? What you wanted to do when you were younger?"

"Not really," she admitted. "I mean, I wanted to make the world a better place. I wanted democracy and the kind of world where a place like Garden wasn't necessary, but beyond that, I didn't have a plan."

"But you made most of that happen. You did what you set out to do."

"I had a lot of help," she said. "But, maybe you should talk to Squall. He might be able to give you some ideas about where to go from here, if SeeD isn't what you want to do."

"Maybe I will," Blaise said. "By the way, Laguna invited my mother for a visit. She's only here for a couple days, but I want to spend some time with her. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Rinoa said. "Have to make up for lost time, right?"

"Yeah," he said softly. "Hey Rin?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks. For being so accepting."

Rinoa took his hand again.

"You're my brother. I'd accept you, no matter what."

* * *

Lily wasn't scared at all. She sat before the court and explained to the judge why she wanted Squall to be her father, and Squall couldn't help but get misty eyed as she sang his praises. She told them how Squall had been there, day in and day out when Ellone got sick and about how afraid she'd been of being abandoned. There was none of her usual sarcasm or wit, just an earnest and rather eloquently stated list of reasons why they belonged together.

Laguna sat beside Squall and did nothing to hide his own tears. Hearing Lily tell her side of the story, in her own words had gotten to him. If he was emotional because he had regrets, Squall didn't know, but at least he was there and that was something.

Seifer, Quistis, Zell, Raijin and Fujin were there too, sitting on a bench behind him to lend a bit of support. Squall hadn't asked them to come, but Seifer insisted on being there and made phone calls on Squall's behalf. Squall was touched Seifer even bothered and it was nice to have his friends rally together and show up. It meant a lot to him, but even more to Lily.

"Has there ever been a time when you felt he treated you unfairly?" the judge asked Lily.

"Sure," she said with a shrug, "I think every kid feels like that sometimes. Kids do stupid things and make mistakes, but I usually figure out later it isn't because he's mean. It's because he loves me and wants what's best for me. Even when I mess up."

She met his eyes and a soft smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

"And I'm pretty sure I'll still feel that way about stuff," she said. "I'll mess up sometimes and I'll act like a spoiled brat and think he's being unfair. And I'll pout for a while, and maybe paint something and get over myself. I mean, nobody gets their way all the time. Win some, lose some, right?"

Squall didn't even try to hide his tears or smile of appreciation for her mature answer. He would remember this the next time she got upset over not getting her way.

"Nine, going on thirty-five," Laguna said softly.

"Truer words," Squall replied.

"What's your least favorite thing about living with your uncle?"

Lily cocked her head at the judge and bit her lip. She thought for a minute before speaking.

"He doesn't talk much," she said. "And he's kind of a neat freak."

Squall hid a snort of laughter behind his hand. If those were the worst things she could think of, Squall would take it without complaint. He'd feared she might actually mention child labor or the occasional drink before noon.

"That's it?" the judge asked.

"Pretty much," Lily said. "Can I tell you what I like about living with him? Because I think that's more important."

"Of course."

Lily looked at her hands and then at the judge. When she began to speak, her voice was firm and direct. Squall marveled at her poise and confidence, though he shouldn't have been surprised by it. Lily never had a problem speaking her mind.

"I like that he thinks all my art is good, even when it isn't. And I like that he doesn't talk to me like I'm a dumb kid. He doesn't lie to me, and I like that he teaches me things, like how to defend myself, and how to make spaghetti," she said, "but what I like most is that he never gave up on me. Even when things were bad and he didn't know what he was supposed to do with me, he didn't give up. He kept trying and I love him for that."

There was total silence in the room as Lily turned her eyes on him. A hint of a smile crossed her lips before she returned her attention to the judge.

Beside Squall, Laguna sniffled. Squall's hand landed on his father's shoulder and gave it a squeeze as he bit back his own tears.

"That wasn't directed at you," Squall said quietly. "Don't take it that way."

"I know," Laguna said. "Still hurts."

"Then change it," Squall said. "She needs you."

It was strange to him to be comforting Laguna, when maybe it should have been the other way around. Their relationship had always been colored by an odd role reversal where Squall was the adult and Laguna the perpetual child. Squall doubted Laguna would ever change, but that didn't mean he couldn't be there.

It was even stranger that Laguna could step in on Rinoa's behalf, hire a lawyer and arrange for a better situation than D-District, yet when it came to those closest to him, he floundered and sometimes ran away. Laguna proved himself over and over again to be no coward in battle, yet he could be such a coward when it came to dealing with the hard, emotional things.

Like Squall had any right to judge. Hadn't he done the same thing? He shut down, closed himself off, and even resorted to memory erasure to avoid the pain of loss. It wasn't much different than fleeing to another continent or conveniently finding there was suddenly too much work to be done.

"I know you look at me and see Raine," Squall said quietly so no one but Laguna could hear him. "And you look at Lily and see Ellone, but we're not ghosts, Laguna. We're still alive and we need you, so suck it up and be there."

Squall had never said anything like that to Laguna before. His mouth opened and closed like a dying fish as he struggled to come up with a response. Eventually, he nodded and gave Squall's arm a pat.

"That's exactly what your mother would have said."

"We'll talk about this later," Squall said.

He returned his attention to Lily. He'd missed something while he was talking to Laguna. The judge had moved on from questions about Lily's general happiness to questions about the future.

"Have you decided what name you want to take?"

Lily nodded slowly.

"Leonhart," she said. "I think my mom would be okay with that."

Squall was sure Ellone would be okay with it, wherever she was. Squall nodded back at Lily, giving his consent and his approval. The choice was Lily's, but he couldn't deny he was pleased by the decision.

"And... I think she'd be really proud of how good a job he's done."

Squall's eyes burned and a lump formed in his throat, but at least this time it wasn't because he was losing something. In that moment, he loved Lily so much he could barely hold back. He swallowed it all downand sat up straighter, awaiting the Judge's final ruling.

"Is there anyone who would like to present any additional information at this time?" the Judge asked.

No one spoke up.

"Then I'm going to rule in favor of the motion," he said with a smile. "Congratulations, Lily, and best of luck to you, Mr. Leonhart."

Squall was on his feet in an instant. He crossed the courtroom to where Lily stood, beaming with tears in her eyes. He dropped to a knee and looked at his daughter.

Boy, he liked the sound of that.

This was a game changer. The enormity of it didn't hit him until Lily's arms went around in his neck and she started to sob. He was no longer just an uncle and caretaker but a father. In theory, it didn't make that much of a difference. He'd played the role for some time now, but giving it a name and making it official felt monumental. He was a _father_.

 _Mine_ , he thought. _Mine._

There was fear, too. Fear of not living up to the task. Fear of letting her down. Fear of not being enough, but he sure as hell was going to try.

"Did I do okay?" she asked.

"You did great," he promised as he pulled back to look at her. "I'm so proud of you."

"I can't believe this is really real," Lily said.

"That makes two of us, kiddo," he said. "You and me, right?"

Lily nodded. "You and me."

* * *

Laguna reserved tables his favorite restaurant, _Alexander's_ to host a celebratory dinner for Squall and Lily, and invited everyone who mattered, including Jake and Elise. The band played upbeat, jazzy tunes and the kids, plus Laguna, invaded the dance floor to wiggle and shimmy to the best or worst of their abilities.

Squall sat back and watched Lily dance with Jake and Zell's daughters, still a bit overwhelmed by the idea of being a father. It hadn't happened the way he imagined it would, but it was just as important. Lily was his _daughter_. Every time he thought about that, he was amazed by how good it felt, but he was also very, very worried he would screw it up somehow.

"You don't look very happy, Leonhart," Seifer said as he took a seat at the table. He placed a bottle of whiskey between them. "Have a drink."

"I have no complaints," Squall said.

He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swallow.

"Waiting for the other shoe to drop?"

Squall frowned and stared at the label on the bottle contemplatively. He wanted to keep his concerns to himself, but Seifer had a way of dragging it out of him one way or another. Maybe it was best to tell the truth. After all, for all Seifer's posturing and hot temper, he was at heart, a rational man.

_How's that for irony, Leonhart? Confessing all your deep, dark secrets to a guy who once nearly sliced your face open like a Galbadian ham..._

"I keep wondering what I'll have to give up in exchange for being happy," Squall said. "Or what I'll lose in the long run."

It was Seifer's turn to frown.

"You've given up enough, don't you think?" Seifer asked, uncharacteristically serious. "Have a little faith."

"Every time I do, that proverbial shoe lands in my lap."

Seifer stared at him for a second before taking a swallow of whiskey.

"What are you worried about?"

"Screwing up."

"Are you kidding me?" Seifer asked. "Didn't you hear what she was saying up there? That kid thinks you hung the moon and decorated the whole damn sky with stars, just for her."

"I heard her."

"So what's the problem?"

"I don't want to let her down."

"Stop second guessing yourself," Seifer said. "You've done a damn good job so far. Yeah, you're going to piss her off, and she's going to piss you off and that's the way it is, but it doesn't mean you're gonna screw up."

"Know a lot about parenting, do you?" Squall asked, feeling surly.

"I don't know shit about parenting," Seifer said. "But what I do know, I learned from watching you, stupid. You've got that shit on lock down."

Squall took a swallow of the whiskey and looked out to the dance floor, where Laguna was teaching Lily, Zell's daughters, and Raijin, the steps to the Lindy Hop. Lily's face was bright with happiness and her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. A rush of deep, pure love momentarily overtook Squall's worries.

"Besides. Too late to regret it now."

"I don't regret it," Squall said.

Seifer stared at him for a second.

"All you have to do is be her dad," Seifer said. "You were already doing that. The only difference now is that you have a legal document that says it's for real."

Seifer was absolutely right, but that didn't change the overwhelming fear it was too good to be true. A lifetime of having loved ones ripped away from him taught him not to trust that everything would be sunshine and roses. A lifetime of having the best things in his world disappear made it almost impossible to not expect the worst. Just when he'd grown comfortable with someone being there, one way or another, some circumstance would take them away.

He didn't know how to explain this to Seifer. Instead, he helped himself to another sip of whiskey and watched Lily dance. She caught his eye and beamed at him.

"You're thinking too much," Seifer said. "You're your own worst enemy, you know that? You're supposed to be celebrating, and here you are planning for the worst."

Squall just nodded. Again, Seifer was right. He was thinking too much and worrying about things that he didn't need to be worrying about.

"Enjoy the moment, Squall," Seifer said, seriously. "Even if things don't play out the way you want them to in the long run, you'll regret not enjoying the time you did get. You can't predict the future, and you can't change the past, my friend. Right now is all we worthless shitheads have. Don't waste it on worrying about tomorrow or next week or five years down the road. You'll sleep better."

"You're giving me a pep talk?"

"Damn straight," Seifer said, giving his arm a hard pat. "Someone has to."

Near the end of the night, Laguna took Squall aside and handed Squall his phone. Squall raised an eyebrow and took it and wondered what this was about. Laguna's expression was serene, if not mysterious as he stepped away to allow Squall some privacy. He'd never seen his father look like that and judged the man to either be drunk or up to something.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

The sound of Rinoa's voice in his ear made all of his worries melt away. He closed his eyes and sighed in relief as he found a quiet corner to duck into.

"Laguna told me the good news," she said. "I'm so happy for you, Squall. And Lily."

Squall hadn't even considered Rinoa when he decided to do this. Not once had he considered the impact it might have on their relationship, assuming she didn't wind up in prison at the end of this. What if she didn't want to be Lily's mother? What if...

"I'm sorry I didn't consult with you before going ahead," he blurted out. "I should have thought about that."

"Why?" she asked.

"Your opinion matters to me."

"That's sweet, but in this case, it was your decision to make, not mine," she said. "And I think you made the right one. For both of you... How is she?"

Squall leaned his head against his palm.

"Happy."

"What about you?"

"...I miss you."

"I miss you, too," she said. "I wish I was there to celebrate with you."

"I wish you were too," he said.

"How does it feel?" she asked. "To be a dad?"

"Good," he said, then amended it to: "Scary."

Rinoa's laugh was soft and understanding.

"I can imagine," she said. "But, tomorrow, it won't be so scary. And just remember, you gave her something no one else could give her, so every time you start to worry, just think about how much it must mean to her and how loved she feels knowing you cared enough to make it official."

Squall wondered how Rinoa knew he worried. Or how she knew exactly what he needed to hear. Did she really still know him that well?

"I can feel you worrying a thousand miles away, Squall," she said with a soft laugh. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

"What about you?" he asked. "Is there a light at the end of the tunnel?"

"I don't know," she said. "Investigation is ongoing. My fate depends on Miranda and Jackie. Once their trials are over, they'll make a determination about what to do with me. I'm going stir crazy here. Blaise has taken all my Triple Triad cards, I've read everything in the place and all I want to do is go home."

He wondered which home she meant. Timber, Deling City or there with him in Dollet. He didn't ask for fear he wouldn't like the answer.

"Seifer and Quistis are getting married next month," he said because he was too afraid to ask her what her plans were after it was over.

"I heard," she said. "Quistis sent me an invitation."

"Hard to believe," he said. "The two of them..."

"Yeah, I thought so at first. But they're kind of perfect for each other. I'm happy for them."

"Yeah," Squall agreed. "Me too."

This was hard. Harder than he thought it would be. For the last two weeks, all he wanted was to hear her voice and now he was at a loss for words. He dealt with missing her by throwing himself into work and focusing on the adoption, but now that they were talking, he'd never missed her more. There were a thousand things he wanted to say, but none of them were appropriate over the phone and all that left him was small talk.

"I should go. We're not supposed to be in contact, you know?" she said. "Until this is over."

He wanted to tell her how good it was to hear her voice. How much he'd needed it.

"I'll see you soon," he said.

"Yeah..."

"Bye."

"Bye, Squall."

He hung up the phone as the weight of missing her came down on him full force. He should have told her he loved her and it sat like a stone in his chest for the rest of the evening, while he faked smiles and tried not to think about how he'd somehow come to count on Rinoa being there.

* * *

Miranda's trail wrapped up a week later. Rinoa watched the verdict on a closed circuit feed, less vindicated than perhaps she should have been. It gave her no satisfaction to see Miranda be given a 30 year sentence for her part in the scheme, as well as additional years for being an accessory to Danielle Wilkins' death. The woman, in tears, accepted her sentence with a wail of dismay as her husband looked on with stone faced disinterest. As Miranda was led from the courtroom, she pleaded with him, but he turned his eyes away and refused to acknowledge her.

_How sad._

Rinoa switched off the feed and sat back, unable to watch any more. She just wanted this to be over. Being locked up, even in such comfortable quarters was grating. She wanted to see the sun and breathe in fresh air. She wanted to fall asleep next to Squall and wake up in his arms and to see Lily hard at work on some beautiful new work of art.

Time slowed down, each day an endless repeat of the day before. Sitting still, staying in one place, it was never something she was good at. Rinoa was about action, getting things done, not sitting idle in a room a thousand miles from home.

The only thing to break the monotony was time spent with Blaise, but even that had become more of the same. Playing board games and cards. Telling stories about childhood, some sad, some funny but few happy. Eventually, they ran out of stories.

"I've got to get out of this room," Rinoa complained.

"Well..." Blaise began, a gleam in his eye.

"Well, what?" Rinoa demanded.

"Chill and I'll tell you."

Rinoa stared at the smirk and the excitement in is eyes. He was up to something! Something rash and stupid and just what Rinoa was looking for.

"Tell me," she said.

He reached into his bag and produced a blonde wig and a pair of surgical scrubs.

"Put those on."

Rinoa inspected the items, baffled. "Why?"

"Because I'm busting you out for the night," he proclaimed. "You, me, some filthy dive bar somewhere and a whole lot of alcohol."

"You think that's a good idea?" Rinoa asked as she tried on the wig.

"It's a terrible idea, but you need to get out and I need a drink," he said. "Come on. It'll be fun."

"You want me to go out partying with you in hospital scrubs?"

"Well, if anyone asks, which they won't, you are a lab tech enjoying a good stiff drink after a long day at work," Blaise said.

Rinoa stared at him for a second before she burst into laughter.

"Stealing a page from my own youthful, reckless book of bad ideas," Rinoa said. "I always figured I got it from my mother. Now I'm starting to wonder."

"You never know," Blaise said. "Perhaps Caraway was a hell-raiser in his youth. Before the military turned him into a robot."

"Maybe so," Rinoa agreed.

"Come on. Get dressed," Blaise said. "We have a short window of opportunity here, so get a move on."

"Yes sir," Rinoa said, giving her little brother a mock salute.

She dressed quickly in the unflattering and extremely boring hospital scrubs. The pants were huge but the tie cinched at the waist tight enough that she wasn't worried they'd fall down. The top was square and shapeless and hid her slender frame. In the mirror, she appeared twenty pounds heavier than she was and the blonde, bobbed wig did nothing for her complexion. Nothing about the disguise as flattering and she decided, looking at her reflection, Blaise had chosen well. No one would recognize her or even give her a second look in this get-up.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Blaise had changed into scrubs of his own, though he hadn't bothered with a wig or any additional form of concealment. A hint of 5-o'clock-shadow made him look older and a little dangerous and Rinoa smiled her approval.

"You look fat," he commented.

"Gee, thanks," she said. "I feel so pretty now."

"It's perfect."

"Are we ready?" she asked. "I don't want to explain why we're playing dress up if someone walks in."

"If we'd grown up together, you would have put me in a pink tutu and made me wear lipstick," he said knowingly. "And then you would have taken pictures to show any future girlfriends."

"Oh, no doubt," Rinoa agreed with a smile. "Shame. I bet you'd look cute in pink."

"Come on," Blaise said. "We've got about five minutes before the proverbial changing of the guards."

"What does that mean?"

"Jules is in on it," Blaise said. "Ogden is not. The technicians all head out about this time, so we blend into the crowd as they exit the building."

Jules and Ogden were the other two SeeDs assigned to guard her. Blaise was friendly with Jules, who was a less hyper version of Zell, but Ogden was strictly by the book. There was zero chance of Rinoa getting out if he was on the door.

"Then let's mosey," Rinoa said.

"Mosey?"

"Heard it in movie once," she said and shrugged. "Sounded good."

Blaise popped his head out the door and spoke quietly to the person on the other side before he opened it wider to allow Rinoa to leave the room. Jules grinned conspiratorially at them and gave Blaise a thumbs up.

It was disturbingly easy to sneak out with the crowd of technicians leaving for the day. She and Blaise followed the group of scrub-clad people to the door and her sense of adventure kicked into high gear as she stepped outside into a wall of hot air.

The dying sun blazed orange and red on the horizon, so bright it stung her eyes and she instantly began to sweat under her scrubs. She was outside and the air smelled of baked earth and freedom. After being inside, in a constant air conditioned and humidity controlled climate, the warmth was welcome.

Giddy from this act of childish defiance, Rinoa followed Blaise to the public transport lift and hoped he knew where he was going. It had been some time since she'd been to Esthar and even longer since she'd used the lifts. She got a thrill as she stepped onto it, and outside the tube, Esthar's strange, ultra-modern architecture melted into a blur of color.

The bar was on the edge of town, in a not-so-nice area, but within walking distance of a hospital. Inside were three or four others dressed in scrubs, all enjoying cocktails and beers at a table near the back.

"What are you drinking, big sis?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask for some fancy cocktail or a glass of wine, but it suddenly hit her that distancing herself from her life as a billionaire's wife was imperative. She wanted to feel like her old self, not the woman who drank only top shelf and wore only designer labels. The place was certainly a dive, a dirty hole in the wall, and she decided to act accordingly.

"Beer," she said decisively. "Whatever's on tap."

"Beer it is."

Two hours and four beers later, Rinoa was tipsy and losing badly at a game of billiards. She watched with dismay as Blaise cleared most of the table in one turn. She used to be decent at this, thanks to Squall's tutelage, but it had been so long ago, she was out of practice.

"Is there anything you're good at?" Blaise teased as she took her turn and missed. "You're terrible at this, too."

"Making bad decisions," she said. "Pretty good at that. Meanie."

"Meanie?" he asked. "I haven't been called that since I was eight."

"And what did you do to deserve being called a meanie?" Rinoa demanded.

"Pulled a girl's pigtail."

"Then you definitely deserved it."

"I probably did," he said.

"Why do boys do that?" she asked. "What's the fun in it?"

"Well, in my case, I had a crush," he said, leaning down over the table to line up a shot. "And I didn't want her to know, so... I was mean."

"Did it work?" she asked. "Being mean?"

"She wound up being my girlfriend," he said. "But not because I pulled her hair."

"Yeah?" Rinoa asked with interest. "Is she still your girlfriend?"

They hadn't talked about this and Rinoa wondered why she hadn't bothered to ask yet.

"...sometimes."

Rinoa was genuinely curious now.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It's complicated," he said.

"Explain."

"It's mostly me," he said. "I get scared. Push her away when she gets too close." He took his shot and lined up the next. "She gets mad and breaks up with me. Two weeks later, I miss her and beg her to come back and she does. Wash, rinse, repeat."

Like Squall, Blaise suffered from an extreme fear of intimacy. Of wanting close relationships but ultimately being unable to cope when it became too intense. Squall eventually learned to trust himself and others and to let them in, but Blaise was not there yet.

"Do you love her?" Rinoa asked.

"Since I was eight."

"She must love you if she keeps coming back," Rinoa said.

"I don't know how to stop myself from pushing her away."

Rinoa felt terrible for him, but she was glad he felt comfortable enough to share with her. It meant there was hope for him, and hope for a relationship with him in the future.

"I know it's hard, growing up on your own," Rinoa said. "but sometimes, you have to let yourself be afraid. Speaking from experience, I know what a risk that is for you, but if you really want her in your life, you have to take that risk. Otherwise, you're just hurting her over and over again, and she won't stick around forever if you keep doing it."

"Logically, I know you're right," Blaise said, straightening up. "Easier said than done."

"Is she a SeeD?"

"No," he said. "She dropped out before the field exam, got a job as a medic at Deling Memorial. She hated the fighting."

A waitress passed by and Blaise ordered another round while Rinoa took her turn.

"You say you're afraid of opening up, but you're talking to me," Rinoa continued after she missed another shot.

"It's different," he said with a shrug.

"How?"

"Maybe because we're family?"

Rinoa didn't believe that for a second. They'd known each other for a month. Sure, the circumstances allowed them to spend time with one another and get to know one another, but that didn't make up for nineteen years of not being a part of each other's lives.

"Telling you about all my insecurities is easier than letting her see them," he said. "In the beginning, you and I were strangers, and I figured I'd lay it all out on the table and if you walked away, it wouldn't be a huge loss because you weren't there to start with. I just needed to talk to somebody who wasn't involved. It just happened that it was you."

That made some sense, Rinoa was sad to know he could share these things with a virtual stranger, but not with a girl he'd loved since he was a boy.

"I don't want her to think I'm weak."

"I promise you, she won't think that," Rinoa said. "Part of being in a romantic relationship is letting yourself be vulnerable sometimes."

He nodded and stared at the remaining balls on the table.

"I'd bet money she already has you figured out," Rinoa said. "And loves you anyway. Otherwise, she would have moved on. She's just waiting for _you_ to figure it out."

It was painfully obvious that Blaise had a lot of issues to work through. Rinoa's heart ached for him and all the things he must be going through. That was a hard adjustment to make. She'd watched Squall sort through a myriad of feelings about Laguna and to a lesser extent, Raine and Ellone.

He too had played advance and retreat in the beginning, though Rinoa had never been so frustrated that she'd broken up with him. All Squall's vulnerabilities were plain to see, even from the beginning, and as he thawed a degree at a time, Rinoa saw flickers of a beautiful, sensitive soul hiding behind the steely facade. The more of it she saw, the more she wanted to unravel the enigma until all of it was laid bare.

Blaise was in the same place Squall had been at seventeen. Afraid to let who he really was show. Afraid that if the walls crumbled, he would be seen as weak. It was honorable of him to want to be the strong one, and Rinoa didn't doubt he was, but at the same time, he'd needed someone to reassure him that it was okay to have insecurities.

While Rinoa was honored he'd spoken so honestly about his fears to her, she understood this was atypical behavior for him. He suffered from none of the social awkwardness Squall had as a young man, but it was the same sort of distance, hiding behind a friendly and outgoing nature.

He would be okay. Rinoa was sure of that, but like Squall it would take time and patience. Now that he had a support system, in the form of Rinoa and his mother, things would change. He would eventually want to open up the way Squall had. It would get easier.

She told him all this as they finished their game and sipped their cheap beers. He was thoughtful, but worried for a while after, sitting in silence at the bar next to her.

"We've only known each other a month, but it's starting to feel like forever," Blaise finally said.

"Good," Rinoa said, nudging his arm. "That means my powers of manipulation are working."

"How is it possible that you got me to talk about this stuff when no one else can?"

That told Rinoa his earlier explanation wasn't entirely true, but she didn't bother to use his own words against him.

"Because I secretly infiltrated your mind when you weren't looking," she teased. "You are helpless against my awesome powers."

She stuck a finger in his face and twirled it in front of his eyes.

" _You're-going-to-talk-to-me, you're-going-to-talk-to-me_ ," she intoned. " _You-will-tell-me-ALL-your-secrets._ "

Blaise laughed softly and swatted her hand away.

"I'm so glad you're my sister."

"Ditto that, little brother," she said.

He went silent again, sipping his beer thoughtfully.

"I'm going to quit SeeD," he said. "See what else is out there for me. Give normal a shot."

Rinoa patted his arm and then leaned her head against it.

"I like that idea. I like it a lot."

* * *

"Want the good news or the bad news first?" Seifer asked.

They sat in the cafe next to a department store in Dollet's shopping district, killing time while Quistis and Lily finished up final fittings for the wedding. Seifer asked Lily to be the ring bearer, breaking with tradition so Lily could be in the wedding party.

Lily was over the moon about it, excited to take part. Squall wanted to stick around, to make sure the dress chosen for her was appropriate, but Quistis kicked them out. Not that Squall believed Quistis would ever choose something inappropriate, but Squall had concerns.

Now, there was nothing for them to do but wait and drink while the girls did their thing.

"Bad news," Squall said, taking a sip of his ale. "Always the bad news first."

"Preston gave his notice," Seifer said. "He'll help finish up the bank jobs, but he wants to go back to school."

"That's a shame," Squall said. "Any ideas on a replacement?"

"Nope."

"I'll put out an ad," Squall said. "It isn't like him leaving hurts that much, though he's a pretty good tech."

"Well, that's the good news," Seifer said. "I landed the Dolletian Parliament job. Fourteen buildings, eleven hundred cameras and a monitor bank of at least 500. We need the help."

"Are you serious?" Squall asked.

"As a pissed off t-rexuar," Seifer said. "We start the week after I'm back from honeymoon. Which means, we need to find someone to work with you here full time because I can't be here and finish up the other jobs in Deling at the same time."

"I'll put the word out," Squall said. "Maybe Zell knows someone. Unless we can convince Preston to delay."

"Naw, kid's pretty determined and the new semester starts in a few weeks. Pretty much a done deal."

Squall nodded, mentally calculating how long a job of that scope would take on his own or with Raijin assisting.

"As far as tonight, I've got your word there are no strippers, right?" Seifer asked flatly.

Squall frowned at him. He'd been surprised when Seifer asked for a simple gathering for his bachelor party rather than a wild crawl through Deling City's dirtiest and seediest drinking establishments. Squall was prepared to rent a limo and to wake up in a strange place with no memory of how he'd gotten there, as was typical of a celebratory outing with Seifer. Instead, Squall was hosting a barbecue at the new house, with only those closest to Seifer attending, though Squall found it interesting that among those closest, Zell was included at Seifer's invitation.

"When has that been a problem for you?"

"It isn't, but Quistis made me promise."

"And when have you ever let someone else's feelings get in the way?"

"She's moving for me," Seifer said. "I'm inclined to give her any damn thing she wants. If that includes not stuffing twenties in a stripper's thong, then so be it."

"So... No sexy cop bursting in to arrest you?"

"As tempting as that sounds, no."

Squall had not hired a stripper or any other form of entertainment for the evening, but Seifer didn't have to know that.

"Besides, what good is a girl you have to pay for when I've got a woman like Quistis willing to take off all her clothes for real?" Seifer said with a smirk.

Squall grimaced and held up his hand. As much as the idea of the two of them together gave Squall some consolation Seifer was finally growing up, he didn't want or need to know the details. It was too weird and Quistis was like a sister to him. Not a close sister, but a sister just the same.

"Just so you know," Squall said, "If you hurt her, you're a dead man."

"You don't have to worry about that," Seifer said, dropping his smirk. "I'd cut my own throat before I'd hurt her more than she already has been."

"You really do love her."

"Yeah," Seifer said. "And I have, for longer than you know."

* * *

Rinoa sat at a conference table in Odine's office, watching the playback of Jackie Dumas' sudden, tear filled admission of guilt. In the middle of describing how she provided Lacey Killroy contacts for the hit men, she burst into tears and proclaimed herself guilty.

"I'll take whatever sentence," Jackie said. "I just can't sit through this like I didn't do anything wrong. I'm guilty. We terrorized Rinoa Delacroix and I'm not going to lie about it, so let's not draw this out anymore."

Rinoa was stunned. She planned on waiting through another two or three weeks of testimony before any decision was made on what to do with her. Her lawyer said her own outcome would hinge on the outcome of those two respective trials. One was found guilty, the other, by her own admission, was guilty of terrorizing Rinoa. Now, it seemed the investigation could move forward and a determination could be made about whether or not Rinoa would face trial or if the charges would be dropped.

"This is a good sign," Laguna said. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "With any luck, you could be home next week."

Going home next week would mean she might even make Seifer and Quistis' wedding. She didn't dare hope for it too much, but she wanted with everything in her to be there for them. Even if they'd lost touch over the years, it was a big step forward for both of them, and Rinoa wanted to be there. Just because they were no longer close didn't mean it had to stay that way.

"How long do you think it will take?" Rinoa asked. "To make a determination?"

"Well, depending on what they may or may not have on you, it could be as soon as Monday or as late as a couple weeks from now, but I'll do what I can to expedite it."

"Laguna, I don't know how to thank you for all this," she said.

He patted her hand.

"I'm the one that should be thanking you," Laguna said. "I know you're the one that pushed Squall to get to know me. If you hadn't been there, he might not have bothered."

Rinoa didn't know if that was necessarily true. Deep down, there was a part of Squall that wanted to know his father but he'd been too stubborn to act on it without Rinoa's insistence. Had Rinoa not been in the picture, curiosity would have gotten the better of him and he would have eventually given in on his own.

"Still, I am grateful."

"We'll have you home soon," Laguna said. "I doubt anyone's going to say guilty at this point."

Rinoa crossed her fingers and hoped it was the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A while back, silentstarlight drew some fan art of Squall and Lily and posted it over on Tumblr! You should go check it out because it's adorable! *flails*
> 
> http://silentstarlight.tumblr.com/image/141557236783


	19. Chapter 19

Rinoa distracted herself with books and daytime drama on TV as she waited for word on whether or not she would face trial or be set free. Her lawyer was in Dollet to hear the ruling, and every second the phone didn't ring, the more agitated she became. A few times, she was near tears out of sheer frustration and fear that it wouldn't turn out the way she wanted it to.

Blaise did his best to distract her. Laguna, too, when he was there. Laguna bounced back and forth between Dollet and Esthar, providing her the only link she had to the outside and to Squall. Things were going well, according to Laguna. Lily was happy. Squall bought a house in Dollet. Business was booming and Squall was as anxious as she was for a decision to be made.

The longer she went without news of her fate, the less hopeful she was for a favorable judgment. Her lawyer asked questions to clarify events and her role in the final hours of Lacey Kilroy's life, but Laguna reiterated his assurances that it was procedure and going to trial was unlikely.

What if Laguna was wrong? What if he was just being Laguna and letting his perpetual optimism get in the way? What if they'd found some evidence that would damn her to a life behind bars?

"Do I need to bust you out and get you drunk again?" Blaise finally asked.

"I'd love to say yes to that," she said. "But I need to be here. Laguna said we'd hear something today."

"How about I sneak in a bottle of something? Double feature on TV. _The Sorceress' Knight_ and _I Want to Be Your Canary_ are on. We could make a drinking game out of it."

Rinoa smiled. That sounded like fun. Like something she and Selphie might have done years ago in Selphie's dorm or at Rinoa's apartment when Squall was gone on a mission. Hyne, how she missed those days.

"You're on," she said.

"I'll go see what I can scare up," Blaise said, a gleam in his eye. "There's got to be some booze around here somewhere."

As Blaise was about to open the door, Laguna walked in, grim faced, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his suit jacket.

"It's bad news, isn't it?" she asked.

* * *

"We're on our way to Dollet," Laguna said. "We'll arrive in the morning and meet with the judge."

"Am I allowed to be there?" Squall asked.

"I'm sorry, son."

Squall cursed into the phone and leaned heavily against the porch railing. This was not welcome news. He anticipated, with Miranda's conviction and Jackie's confession, Rinoa was off the hook, but Laguna made it sound like he needed to prepare for the worst. Squall was terrified it might end with Rinoa behind bars serving a lengthy sentence, no option for parole. He didn't know what he'd do if that happened.

"Dad-"

"I know son."

Anger swelled in his chest and he scowled at the phone. It was just like Laguna to be somewhere else when the worst happened. Squall shouldn't have expected any different, and he didn't know why he was angry or disappointed by it.

"How could you have any clue how I'm feeling right now?" Squall asked. "You've run away from every, single bad feeling you've ever had."

"True, but I'm working on it."

Something inside Squall broke. Neither subtlety nor bluntness seemed to work with Laguna. Squall was guilty in his own way of what he accused Laguna of, but at least he was trying to face his fears head on, as scary as it was.

"Working on it?" Squall asked. "I appreciate everything you've done for Rinoa, believe me, I do. But I may have to face the fact that I'm going to lose her and you tell me you're going to be in that courtroom with her tomorrow. Did it ever occur to you that I might need you more?"

There was a long silence on the other end.

"Why do you think I'm doing this son?" Laguna finally asked. "Why do you think I'm helping her?"

"I don't know. So you don't have to look at Lily and get your heart broken again?"

Laguna gave a weary sigh.

"I'm doing this for you," his father said. "So that for once in your life you don't have to watch someone you love disappear."

* * *

It took Squall hours to get a hold of himself after he'd hung up with Laguna. He put Lily to bed then went downstairs and made himself a stiff drink. At the table, he tried to come to grips with how badly he misunderstood Laguna's intentions. All Squall had seen was Laguna running again, trying to hide from the bad things, sticking his head in some Estharian sand dune to avoid things that hurt.

Squall had seriously underestimated his father. He owed Laguna an apology but couldn't bring himself to pick up the phone. Instead, he sat there feeling lousy about how blind he was. Of course Laguna had done it for him. He should have seen it. Now, he felt like a selfish idiot for not realizing why Laguna had so actively involved himself in Rinoa's cause.

The tick of animal paws on the linoleum snapped Squall out of his thoughts. Angel padded toward him and sat obediently at his side. The dog's tail thumped against the floor and she issued a soft whine and dropped her head against his thigh. Squall scratched the dog behind the ears and she licked his hand affectionately.

"I know," he said. "I miss her, too."

Angel whimpered again and let out a sad doggy sigh, as though she was weary of the world and full of fear and sorrow.. In reality, she was probably just asking for a treat, but that didn't stop Squall from projecting his feelings onto the dog. Misery was less painful when shared. Even with a four legged dust mop that could rip a man's throat out on command.

He had to hope for the best, but hope was never something Squall relied on. Growing up, he hadn't hoped for anything. Hope was an illusion. It wouldn't keep him from losing Rinoa if that was what fate dictated and it wouldn't pick up all the broken pieces if she never came back to him.

There was no sense in crossing his fingers and wishing for the best. Laguna told him that it didn't look so good. There was no sense in thinking about the worst case scenario because he would only imagine a bleak future of going through the motions for Lily's sake.

He was about to head upstairs to sleep when his phone rang. He frowned at the display and almost didn't answer when he saw who was calling.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Delacroix?"

"This is about what I can do for Rinoa," Florian Delacroix said. "More accurately, what we can do."

"And what's that?"

"It seems more of the control room survived than we thought," Delacroix said. "The monitors are in bad shape, but the processors and recording systems are intact."

An excited flutter started in Squall's stomach. He understood where Delacroix was going with this. The housing for the surveillance equipment, minus the monitor bank, was fire resistant. He kicked himself for not even thinking of it in the days and weeks that followed Rinoa's detainment.

"Meaning we might be able to pull footage off of them," Squall said.

"Think you can perform an autopsy?"

"I can sure as hell try."

"Good. I'm having them sent over to you."

"When can I expect them?"

"Within the hour."

Squall got up and poured what was left of his drink down the drain.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked. "What's in it for you?"

"I didn't let her go so she could be locked up in some prison for the rest of her life," Delacroix said. "She doesn't deserve that."

Squall wondered about Delacroix' reasons for doing this now and not weeks ago. Did the man have a hero complex? He'd already placed himself in the role of martyr, when he'd let Rinoa go without a fight. Was this just one more way of exalting himself, or was it genuine?

"Why now?" Squall asked. "Why wait until the last minute?"

"It didn't even occur to me until this afternoon," Delacroix said, "when I saw processors on the short list of surviving property. I just hope there's enough to find something that can help."

"It's worth a shot," Squall said. "Thank you."

"If you find something useful, make a copy and get it to her lawyer immediately."

That went without saying. If there was something that could exonerate her, Squall would not hesitate to use it. Even if it meant interrupting the hearing to present it.

* * *

Rinoa sat behind a heavy oak table next to her lawyer, staring up at the empty judge platform in the courtroom and listened to the murmurs around her. Half the people in the room supported her. People from the organizations she'd helped banded together, strangers and even a few old friends were there in the crowd hoping for a dismissal. It gave her a small measure of hope to see Watts and Zone on the benches behind her, but it didn't quiet her fear that life as she knew it and the life she so desperately hoped for was swiftly coming to an end.

The voices of those present to support the prosecution were louder and more obnoxious, and their harsh words stung her deeper than she thought they would. Outside on the steps of the courthouse, dozens held signs that called for her execution and claimed she was a murderer and a witch. The ones inside were worse. There were no signs, but there were cruel, hateful words hurled her way without mercy.

In the early days, media and curiosity seekers hounded her, all too happy to root through her trash for evidence of wrongdoing and signs of evil. She was chased and harassed when she ventured out in public by herself, and sometimes even with Squall or her friends. That tiny apartment above the flower shop became a sanctuary for a time, a place where she felt safe, so long as Squall was there with her. When he wasn't, she feared she might be kidnapped or worse, killed for what she was.

As she listened to the whispers of those that wished to see her sealed or dead, that feeling came back full force. Was a prison cell the safest place for her? Was she lying to herself for believing the would ever leave her alone to live her life in peace?

She thought of Lily and what it might do to her to have people spying and taking photographs and asking stupid questions all the time. Would it further damage Lily's sense of security to have people try to peek in the windows and follow her in public, just because she associated with a Sorceress? Or was there something that could be done until all the hype died down? Would she be left alone if she was found innocent?

The others dealt with their own fame differently. Rinoa tried to hide, but the others faced it head on. Selphie nearly got herself thrown in jail for beating a man with his own camera, Quistis ignored it and presented herself as the most boring woman on earth while out in public. For a time, Irvine enjoyed it and often had to be dragged away from adoring women. Like Selphie, Zell got physical with them after a pair of reporters refused to leave his Ma alone.

But none of them had been on the other side of fame, where death threats and hatred were more common than the adoration. None of them really knew what it was like to wake up to find a death threat pinned to the door or to fear who they were. Those people sitting on the other side of the room wanted to see blood spill, to see her locked up, sealed away and shot into space.

Rinoa didn't exactly blame them. History was not on her side. History taught them to hate and fear what she was, and there was no changing the past. At any time, Rinoa could become like them, and they weren't wrong in fearing her for it.

A hand clasped her shoulder, startling her out of her thoughts and she turned to her father who sat directly behind her. He said nothing but gave her a gentle squeeze and a nod before he settled back into his seat between Blaise and Laguna.

It wasn't a grand gesture or even a word of encouragement, but it was enough to bring tears to her eyes. It was more than he'd done in years to show he was on her side, and it meant more than he knew.

She searched the courtroom for Squall, even though she knew he wasn't there. Laguna told him to stay away, and Rinoa was glad for his absence, but she still longed to see him, even if only for a second.

"All rise for the Honorable Judge Clement"

Rinoa stood and looked directly at the judge. A man in his late fifties with dark, angry eyes and a heavily lined face, Judge Clement was rumored to be extremely tough in his rulings. His eyes fell on her, cold and unsympathetic. She started to panic. He had already judged her and found her guilty. She was sure of it.

It was all just a formality, wasn't it? A show. In reality, she didn't stand a chance at freedom, did she?

"The accused has been charged with two counts of murder and one count of conspiracy to commit murder," Clement said. "How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," Rinoa said.

"Very well. In light of the evidence, I see no reason not to proceed with a trial," Clement said.

Something in a square, white envelope landed on the desk between Rinoa and her lawyer. He picked it up before she could, but words were scrawled on the outside in Squall's blocky, all caps handwriting.

NEW EVIDENCE. WATCH IMMEDIATELY.

Her heart skipped a beat and she whipped around in time to catch a glimpse of Squall's profile as the door closed. A strange, wild hope flared in her chest and she looked to Laguna for answers. He just winked and nodded at the judge.

"Your Honor, may I have a brief word in your chambers?" the lawyer asked.

"In regards to what?"

"Possible new evidence."

"I'll allow it."

Rinoa waited impatiently as her lawyer got to his feet and gathered his papers before joining the judge. As soon as they disappeared through the door, Rinoa turned to Laguna with a questioning look.

"What's in the envelope?" she whispered.

* * *

Squall spent all night cycling through footage of the party. It was not an easy task, as each recorded feed was labeled by number rather than location. It was tedious to dig through dozens of recordings to find what he was looking for. Some were damaged to the point where nothing he did could restore them, and by the time he found footage from the ballroom, the sun was coming up.

His stomach, sour from too much coffee, and his eyes heavy and sore from staring at a screen so long, Squall finally found something useful among the hours upon hours of costume clad people dancing and drinking.

Re-energized, he took note of the time stamp, wrote it down and recorded the footage onto a disk then continued his search, going back a few minutes to see if he could find more. If he had more than a single computer monitor, he could have played feeds simultaneously to get a clearer picture of how events transpired. Even now, he didn't know exactly what Rinoa had been up to between the time he left her with Seifer and when he found her upstairs in the midst of a meltdown, both actual and figurative.

"What are you doing?" Lily asked from the doorway.

"Working," he said. "You should be getting ready for school, kiddo."

"You didn't wake me up."

Squall glanced at the time and realized Lily was going to be late if he didn't get a move on. Though he was reluctant to leave his task, Lily would already miss a day of school to travel to Deling City for the wedding and he was not keen on her missing more.

"Come on. Go throw some clothes on. I'll make you some toast," he said.

Lily eyed him suspiciously but obeyed. Squall stuck a couple pieces of bread in the toaster and then splashed cold water on his face. Behind him, disk ejected. He dried his face with a paper towel and stuck the disk in a protective sleeve. At the very least, he could drop it off at the court house on his way back from taking Lily to school, then could resume his search when he returned.

Ten minutes later, Lily was dressed, in the car and munching on toast with jelly. Squall pulled on a pair of sunglasses to shield his tired eyes from the bright sunlight and started the car.

"You weren't drinking all night, were you?" Lily asked as he backed out of the driveway.

"No. Just working," he promised. "Trying to help Rinoa."

"She's coming home soon, right?"

"I hope so."

"Me too. I need some girl time."

Squall tried to hide a smile and failed.

"Yeah, I suck at that stuff," he said. "But, Quistis invited you to go with her and Selphie to get manicures tomorrow, so that should make up for it."

"Would you let me do your nails if I asked?"

"Nope."

"Please?"

"Negative."

"You're no fun."

"There are many, many things I would do for you, Lil, but letting you paint my nails purple is not one of them. Sorry."

"I would pay money to see you with purple nails," Lily said with a big grin.

"Not gonna happen."

Squall pulled into the parking lot as Lily gathered her things.

"Make sure you get your homework for tomorrow," Squall said. "I'll be back to pick you up at three."

"Can you come earlier?" Lily asked. "Like, just a few minutes? I need help carrying the painting I made for Seifer and Quistis."

"You painted them something?"

That was the first Squall had heard of it, but he wasn't surprised. Lily loved to gift people with her creations.

"Yep. It's heavy, though. And big."

"Yeah, sure. See you at about ten till," he promised. He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Have a good day, kiddo. Love you."

"Love you too," she said. "Don't work too hard."

Squall watched her bound up the steps where she joined Jake. He found himself smiling as he watched Lily grab the boy's hand and drag him inside. It was pure Ellone. As kids, she'd dragged him around like a pet, not that Squall had minded. What little he did remember about those days, they'd been an entity. One never went anywhere without the other.

It also brought to mind the memory of being dragged onto the dance floor at the graduation ball all those years ago. He'd always maintained Rinoa had forced him to dance, but that wasn't the truth. He allowed it to happen. Hyne knew, he could have dug in his heels and flat out refused to be led anywhere, but damned if there wasn't something about her behavior that had disarmed him in less than 30 seconds and left him intrigued. No one else in that room would have dared.

Thoughts of Rinoa reminded him he needed to get going.

The courthouse parking lot overflowed with vehicles. Outside, a hundred people or more stood gathered on the steps with picket signs that boasted words of either support or condemnation. News cameras set up on the sidewalk, presumably to catch a glimpse of the accused, good news or bad.

He parked on a side street and found a delivery entrance at the back and slipped in behind a courier with a cart of boxes. It wasn't hard to find the court room, but from the sound of it, the hearing had already started. Two armed guards stood watch over the door and both stood straighter when Squall approached.

"I'm sorry, sir," the guard said. "The hearing has already begun."

"I need to get an urgent message to President Laguna Loire," Squall said.

"I'm sorry -"

"It's extremely important," Squall said. "I'll only be a minute."

The two glanced at one another.

"One of us can deliver it."

"I was instructed to personally deliver it," Squall lied.

"And who are you, exactly?"

"Just a courier."

"I'm sorry. For safety reasons, we can't let you in."

"Could you have him come to the door?"

"I'm sorry, President Loire is not to be disturbed."

Frustrated, Squall ran a hand through his hair and thumbed the disk in his pocket. He didn't trust these two to get the disk to Laguna. He wanted to make sure Laguna held it in his hands before he walked away. These two idiots were determined to keep that from happening. Squall understood their concern. It was a high profile case, and some very important people were inside. They didn't want to risk an assassination attempt or any other mayhem that might occur.

"There should be a SeeD with President Loire. His name is Blaise. Send him out, I'll give him the message and be on my way."

The two guards looked at one another. One shrugged and heaved an exaggerated sigh.

"Fine. Wait here."

"Thank you."

A few minutes passed before Blaise emerged from the room. His expression gave nothing away, but when he saw Squall he frowned and cocked his head the same way Rinoa did when she was displeased. It was eerie to see such a familiar thing on someone else.

"You're not supposed to be here, Commander."

Squall cringed at the use of his old title and stepped closer to the young man.

"I have something that might help," Squall said quietly so that the guards couldn't hear. "Give it to Laguna. Tell him there might be more."

He retrieved the disk from his pocket and placed it in Blaise's hand. The boy was wary but when he saw it was only a square envelope, he relaxed.

"What is it?"

"Footage from the ballroom before the fire."

Blaise gave him a weak smile and a nod as he tucked the disk inside the lapel of his SeeD uniform.

"I'll see it gets passed on," he promised.

"Thank you," he said. "And tell Rin... "

His breath caught in his throat and he couldn't finish his sentence.

"I will," Blaise said. A knowing smile lifted the corners of his eyes the same way Rinoa's did when she smiled. "Though, I'm sure she already knows."

Blaise turned toward the door but hesitated for a second before opening it. He turned back around to face Squall.

"Commander -"

"Squall, please. Just Squall."

"Would it be possible to speak with you about something?" he asked. "Not right now, but maybe this evening?"

"Personal or professional?" Squall asked.

"A little of both. Rinoa said you might be able to give me some advice."

Squall didn't have a clue about what he might be able to give advice on, or what kind of advice the kid was looking for, but he agreed.

"Come by around seven," Squall said. "Laguna has the address."

"Thank you," Blaise said.

"No problem. Just get that disk to Laguna."

Blaise opened the door and Squall glanced into the courtroom to see it was packed with people. He saw his father and Caraway on the bench behind Rinoa. Squall stuck his hand out to stop the door from closing and watched Blaise reclaim his seat.

"Sir-" one of the guards protested.

"I just want to make sure the message gets to Loire," Squall said. "I'll go once it does."

When he saw the disk go flying onto the defense table, he nodded to himself and walked away.

* * *

In the Judge's chambers, Rinoa watched the footage through her fingers. It had been awful and shocking at the time, but it was even worse now. The camera caught Lacey's face from the opposite side of the room, something Rinoa saw in partial profile at this point in the night.

"This is huge," the lawyer said. "This proves, without a doubt you had nothing to do with Lance Kilroy's death. It will cast doubt on the other charges as well."

"Squall said there might be more," Laguna said.

"It might be too late to admit any additional pieces of evidence before trial, but even so, no jury is going to believe this was an act of maliciousness after seeing this. With any luck, charges will be dropped. You can't try a case without evidence."

"The Kilroy family could still file a civil suit," Laguna said.

"Which would be foolish and financially motivated," the lawyer said. "The only reason they would chase it now is if there was the promise of a big pay-out, which they won't get because Rinoa's divorce settlement included nothing but the dog."

Rinoa grinned at his tone. He fundamentally disapproved of Rinoa's choice and believed she should have taken Florian for everything he had.

"But, I suppose that's to our advantage," the lawyer conceded. "It shows that you have no interest in financial gain."

"So, there's a real chance I could go free?"

"Clement is a tough judge, but he's fair and he doesn't like to waste time," the lawyer said. "I doubt he's going to move forward after seeing this."

Rinoa sat down and put her face in her hands.

"But I admitted to it," she said. "You don't think he'll still want to try that aspect?"

"He might, but this tape shows Lacey Kilroy shot her husband and attacked you, so even if you killed her, no one is going to believe it was because you wanted her dead."

"At the time I did," Rinoa said.

"For the love of Hyne, don't say that out loud," he said with a wry grin. "Even if it is true."

"She didn't give you a choice, Rin," Laguna said.

"I know, but..." she began. "So, bottom line, what happens now?"

"Clement is going to want to review the evidence again," the lawyer said. "It might take him a day or two to decide if this is worth going to trial. After that, the hearing will reconvene and he'll deliver his decision."

"And what happens to me in the meantime?"

"Unfortunately -"

"Jail cell?" she asked.

"I did what I could to sequester you in a hotel room, but Clement wouldn't hear it," Laguna said. "I'm sorry. As soon as we're done here, you'll be transported to the maximum security facility until this is over."

Rinoa nodded and closed her eyes. At best, she'd be locked behind bars for a few days. At worst, she would just have to get used to it.

* * *

Squall found six more bits of footage that might be helpful. Much of it was things Squall suspected but hadn't confirmed. Lacey, paying the bartender what looked like a large amount of Gil before the party began, a very clear angle of the woman giving the young man a bag of grayish powder, which he then measured into several liquor bottles. Another showed Lacey's confrontation with Emelda Fontaine in the hall and the merciless shooting that followed.

What interested Squall most was the footage of what happened between Lacey and Rinoa, and there was more of it than he expected. The scene that played out on his computer screen was, in short, a cat fight with magic,until it devolved into an actual cat fight. The really interesting thing was that for as much magic as Lacey hurled Rinoa's way, Rinoa didn't return fire for quite some time. All her energy was focused on defense and deflecting Lacey's attempts to disable her. Fire balls and lightning bolts bounced around the halls, rebounding and doubling until one caught the drapes. Rinoa attempted to put the blaze out, but Lacey tackled her to the floor and seized a fist full of Rinoa's hair.

It might have been amusing, the way the two rolled around the floor, slapping and clawing at each other. Thwarted and wildly out-matched, Lacey resorted to a physical confrontation, one that Rinoa was obliged to respond to with equal force.

Both were oblivious to the fire that licked up the walls and the smoke that filled the hall.

The footage continued in the now-empty foyer, where Lacey used her magic to hurl vases and huge framed paintings at Rinoa. Most of them missed or were deflected, but one struck Rinoa in the head hard enough to send her to her knees. Lacey used the opportunity to taunt Rinoa when she should have fled. Squall couldn't tell what words came out of the woman's mouth, but the look on Rinoa's face told him everything he needed to know.

Rinoa shook her head, got to her feet, held up her hands and backed away from Lacey Kilroy.

She'd tried to end the fight. Rinoa had tried to walk away.

Lacey didn't give up so easily Her face contorted at Rinoa's refusal to fight and she let loose a spell that killed the camera feed before the fire could.

The last piece of footage was short, but hard to watch.

In the hallway, outside Rinoa's room, the fight continued. Neither woman used magic, but instead attempted to knock each other out. Rinoa hurled a vase, Lacey retaliated by driving Rinoa back into the wall, her hands clasped tight around Rinoa's throat.

Rinoa struggled and clawed and struck out, but Lacey didn't budge. Rinoa's eyes rolled back in her head and her body went limp. A flame licked up in front of the camera lens, but only partially obscured the hot blue-white spiderweb of electricity that raced through the walls, or the blinding shockwave that radiated out of Rinoa's body, knocking furniture and figurines and pictures to the floor. More importantly, it knocked Lacey to the floor, leaving the woman stunned and wide eyed in shock.

There was no more footage after that, but it was more than enough to prove Rinoa was driven to it. She tried to end the fight, and Lacey pushed her until she snapped. It was simple as that.

He made copies, then called Laguna.

"I have more," Squall said. "A lot more."

"Good I hope?"

"Hard to watch, but... It'll help."

"I don't know if the judge will allow any more, but we'll try, son," Laguna said.

"Thank you."

"You and Lily still heading out to Deling City in the morning?"

"I feel like I should stay," Squall said. "I want to be here when word comes back."

"You being here won't help," Laguna said. "If tomorrow, the judge decides to throw the whole thing down the toilet, then I'll personally put Rin on a train."

"And if not?"

"You won't have missed your friend's wedding for nothing."

Squall tapped the edge of his pencil against the desk in agitation. What to do? Stay and run the risk of nothing happening? Or go and ris finding out his fears had come true in the middle of it? He didn't know and he was torn.

"You don't need to worry about a conviction being handed down because it isn't going to happen without going to trial," Laguna promised. "So go, have fun, eat cake, get drunk. It'll all work out one way or another."

For once, Squall was glad for his father's optimism.

"...okay."

"I'll send someone over to pick up the disks," Laguna said. "In the meantime, take a nap. I know you were up all night."

Squall did take a nap. He woke two hours later when the courier Laguna sent arrived. He handed over the disk, realized the time and pulled on his shoes to go get Lily. All he could do now was hope the footage helped in some way and that he would see Rinoa sooner rather than later.

The nap helped but he was weary by the time Blaise arrived. Squall forgot about agreeing to talk to him until he showed up on the doorstep, anxious and looking very, very young.

"Hope you don't mind pizza," Squall said as he tried to suppress a yawn. "It's been a long day."

"Pizza's fine," Blaise promised. "I don't want to be any trouble."

"Don't worry about it," Squall said. "Beer?"

"Sure."

Squall retrieved a couple bottles from the fridge.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I need some advice," Blaise said. "Sort of, undecided about some stuff and Rinoa said you might be able to point me in the right direction."

"What about?" Squall asked. He took a seat at the table and motioned for Blaise to do the same.

"Well, I'm thinking about quitting SeeD," Blaise said. "I just...I don't know what to do. I mean, professional killer isn't something that looks great on a resume unless you're joining the Army or planning to take up with one of the freelance merc groups, you know?"

"What are you good at, besides combat?" Squall asked. He asked, not just because the kid needed advice, but because he was genuinely curious.

"I could probably teach martial arts, but I don't think I'd enjoy that," Blaise shrugged. "I specialized in information technology. Pretty good with computers, but it's not like I'm a prodigy or anything. You know, not really into hacking programing or stuff like that, but I can diagnose and fix most problems without much trouble."

Squall had an idea. One that might solve both of their problems.

"How good are you with circuitry and wiring?"

"Really complex stuff isn't my favorite, but I'm okay, I guess."

"How about surveillance systems?" Squall asked. "Any experience there?"

"Yeah, sure," Blaise said. "Plenty."

Blaise took a sip of his beer and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Why do I feel like I'm at a job interview?"

"Because you are," Squall said. "One of my guys quit. I need a replacement."

"You install security systems, right?"

"We're high tech, but the installations aren't complicated if you know what you're doing," Squall said. "All you really need is a basic knowledge of circuitry, software installation and know how to use a power drill. The rest can be taught and you seem like a smart kid."

If Raijin could do the basics of the job, Blaise could too. Not that Raijin was ever allowed to mess with electricity or circuits because he tended to blow up circuit breakers, but Squall doubted that would be a problem for Blaise. Still, the kid might decide after a week that he didn't like it, and Squall didn't want to take on a permanent hire until he knew he found someone who was good at it and wanted to do it.

"Trial basis, of course, let's say temporary to permanent if you can do the work and you like the job."

"Are you serious?"

"Rin will tell you, I'm always serious."

"Shit, I didn't come to beg for a job," Blaise said. "I hope you don't think that's why I'm here."

"I don't. It just so happened, I lost a guy and you need a job. Right place, right time," Squall said. "So, are you interested or not?"

"Yeah," Blaise said. "Definitely."

"Good," Squall said. "We'll hash out the details when I'm back from Deling City, but welcome aboard."

* * *

The cell was not at all nice. Metal walls and a thin, hard mattress. It didn't even have bars but a thick metal door with a small window. Out in the hall, she heard the echoes of footsteps and voices and the occasional scream of anger or despair. The light overhead never shut off.

Rinoa sat on the bed, knees drawn to her chest waiting for word from someone. She was scared to death they were going to tell her she would stand trial, that this would be her home for the rest of her life. This, or a max security cell somewhere deep below the ground in Galbadia. Or a sealing chamber in Esthar. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around her legs and wished for anything but that.

There was nothing in here to distract her from her thoughts. No reading materials, no television, nothing at all. The longer she had to think, the worse her fear got, until it was a full blown paranoia that she would never see her friends or family again. What would she do if this was all there was for her? What if she never saw daylight again? How could she face a future that was so empty? A future without Squall in it?

The longer she sat there, the more her hope waned. She picked at the lunch tray they delivered, not really hungry, but for lack of anything better to do. Overcooked and flavorless mac and cheese. Baloney on stale bread. Apple slices that had turned brown. Rinoa had never been a food snob, but if this was the fare offered in prison, it left a lot to be desired.

It was nearly three by the time a guard came for her. In shackles and a pair of Odine bangles, she followed him down the hall to an office where Laguna, her lawyer and the warden sat. She couldn't tell if the news was good or bad as she sat down and waited for one of them to speak.

"Tell me," she said. "Don't sugar coat it, just tell me."

"Squall found more footage," Laguna said. "Clement watched it."

"And?" Rinoa prompted. "What's going to happen?"

"We meet him in the court room to hear his ruling," the lawyer said.

"When?"

"Right now."

Rinoa gave the pale gray top she wore a tug. "Do I have to wear this?"

"Normally, I'd want you in a conservative outfit, but we don't have time for a costume change," the lawyer said.

Rinoa understood, though she didn't like it. She didn't care what she wore, but the prison garb was like stapling a target to her back. It screamed, "Find me guilty!" Half the court room already thought she was and she was uneasy about how much worse it might look to arrive dressed as a convict.

The court room was just as full as the last time, but it was much quieter this time around. She closed her eyes and tried to center herself as her lawyer settled in beside her. The shuffle of papers and the soft murmur of people speculating heightened her anxiety. Time had come to a stop.

It felt like a decade passed before the judge entered the court room and took his place. Rinoa's heart raced in her chest as a potent and toxic mix of terror and hope swelled up inside her chest and coiled in her stomach. She was on the verge of crying or screaming or both as impatience beat heavy and hot in her heart. She wanted to demand the judge make his ruling, one way or the other so that she knew how to feel and what kind of future she faced.

"I deliberated long and hard on the new evidence to determine whether or not there is a case to be tried here," Judge Clement said. "On one hand, Mrs. Delacroix admitted to killing Mrs. Kilroy. On the other hand, I have video footage that shows Mrs. Kilroy was the aggressor and that Mrs. Delacroix made multiple attempts to stop Mrs. Kilroy without violence. What I see is a woman trying to subdue rather than bring about bodily harm. Taking into account Dolletian law regarding the use of reasonable force, whatever actions Mrs. Delacroix took appear justified."

Rinoa blinked at the judge. Without violence? She supposed that was true, if it was on the tapes, but her memory was tainted by the white-hot rage that fueled her pursuit of her harasser through the house. What Rinoa remembered most was wanting the woman dead and she'd had no intention of letting her live. Thoughts of subduing and using reasonable force never even entered Rinoa's mind.

"In light of this new evidence, and taking into account the testimony presented by Jackie Dumas and Miranda DeLong, it looks to me like a clear cut case of self-defense following a long and twisted scheme devised for the sole purpose of harassing and tormenting Mrs. Delacroix. Also given the history and actions taken by the Descendants of Hyne and Cult of Hyne members in the past against those with special abilities and those burdened with Sorcery, I do believe that Mrs. Delacroix was pushed to her very limits the night of this event."

Rinoa blinked at the judge and held her breath. Though he seemed to be about to rule in her favor, she didn't dare hope for it. She didn't dare allow herself to believe she would go free. Not until he said the words, out loud, in front of the entire court.

"I see that you're very active in the local charities as well as those in Timber, Mrs. Delacroix," Clement said. "Clothing drives, food drives, raising money to help those in need of financial assistance. You even volunteer your time at shelters and soup kitchens in the city."

"Yes sir," Rinoa said. "I do as much as I can for those who need help."

"That's very noble," Clement said. "Not often you hear about the wife of a billionaire willing to get her hands dirty."

"I like getting to know the people I'm helping," she said. "Throwing money at a problem is a start, but actually doing something, even if it's just serving food... it's important to let people know they haven't been forgotten."

Clement smiled and nodded his head slowly.

"I see no reason to take this case to trial," the judge said. "I move to drop all charges. Mrs. Delacroix, you're free to go. Keep up the good work."

Rinoa wasn't sure she'd heard him right until a hoot of excitement rose up behind her. All around, the courtroom erupted in cheers and protests, and she slowly got to her feet in a daze. A part of her believed at the end of this, she would never see daylight again.

It wasn't until Laguna hopped over the railing and scooped her up in a tight hug that it hit her. She was free. Free to walk out of here without handcuffs around her wrists. Free to go to Squall and Lily and try again to make something out of the mess her life had become.

"Let's go find you something to wear," Laguna said. "And then get you on a train."

* * *

"Stop pacing," Squall said. "Sit down, have a drink."

Squall never thought he'd see the day when Seifer Almasy was scared shitless about anything, yet here he was, about to marry the girl of his dreams and he looked like he was about to vomit. Squall might have laughed at him, if Seifer wasn't itching for a fight. If not for the expensive suit and the short window of time before the wedding began, Squall might have been inclined to drag him out back and throw down, just to take the edge off.

A good brawl might help his own agitation. Not a single word from anyone on Rinoa's fate, and that didn't bode well. The longer he went without hearing anything, the more worried he got.

Seifer eyed him, irritated, but did as told. He picked up a bottle of Mimmet whiskey and took a long swallow before passing it back to Squall.

"I just want to get this shit show over with," Seifer said.

"Shit show?" Squall wondered. "Don't sound excited or anything."

"I don't need all this hoopla," Seifer said. He gestured at the door. "I would have been fine with going down to the court house, signing my name on the dotted line, heading off into the sunset."

"You'll be fine," Squall promised.

"Easy for you to say," Seifer said. "You're not the one embarrassing himself with cheesy vows while people you barely know bawl over how romantic it all is."

"And here I thought you were the romantic type," Squall said.

"Hyne, what a dumbass I was," Seifer said. "I don't even remember what the hell I was talking about back then. Shit, I doubt I really even knew. Probably something I saw in a movie."

"Well, it sounded cool."

Seifer laughed and helped himself to another sip of whiskey.

"Well, there's still time to hang myself with my neck tie..."

"Hyne, you're dramatic," Squall said.

There was a knock at the door and Squall opened it to find Lily on the other side. Lily beamed up at him and did a couple of poses to show off her black satin gown, tied at the waist with a big coral bow. The dress was a smaller version of the bridesmaid gowns, the colors reversed. Fujin, who was in the groom's party, was wearing one just like it, though how Seifer and Quistis convinced her to put on a dress without it resulting in violence, Squall didn't know.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"You look beautiful, kiddo," Squall said. Then he frowned. "Are you wearing make-up?"

"Just a little bit. Selphie said I had to. I told her you wouldn't like it and she said if you made noise about it she'd stick her eyelash curler up your-"

Squall laid a finger against her lips to cut her off as he struggled not to laugh. He didn't doubt Selphie would attempt to carry out her threat if he said a word to her about it.

"Don't finish that statement. I get the picture."

Lily peered around Squall and giggled when she saw Seifer. He tugged at his tie and wiped the sweat from his brow, and he grimaced as he took another pull from the bottle.

"You look like you're gonna puke," she said.

"Get over here and give me a hug," Seifer demanded. "Brat."

Lily bolted across the room and threw her arms around neck.

"Don't throw up on my dress," Lily warned. "Selphie will do terrible things to you if Quistis doesn't first."

"I'll try to aim for Squall," Seifer promised. "You look great, kid. Growing like a weed."

Now that Seifer pointed it out, Lily did look taller. He frowned and looked at her feet to double check that they hadn't put her in heels against his wishes, but she wore the dad-approved ballet flats he agreed to.

Another growth spurt. Just what Squall didn't want to deal with. He wanted to keep her this age forever. Old enough to have a conversation with, but young enough that the bullshit teenage hormones hadn't made her surly and defiant. She already had her moments of both, but he hated the idea of having to watch her figure out how shitty the world could really be and how shitty people could be to other people. He didn't want to see her grow jaded or see her heart get broken by some insensitive, stupid boy. He didn't want to see her grow up at all.

"They about ready to start?" Seifer asked her.

"Soon," Lily said. "I hope. Selphie's taking forever to do Quistis' hair. I just want to tell her, _it looks fine, let's go!_ "

"You're just here for the cake, aren't you?" Seifer teased.

"Well, yeah," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "That and the free booze."

"Lily," Squall scolded, but he doubted she heard him over Seifer's belly laugh.

"You are an awesome kid, you know that?"

"I try," Lily said. "But, I've got an awesome dad, so..."

"You mean an uptight dork."

"Well that, too," Lily said. "He's not so bad."

Grinning, Seifer pinched Lily's chin.

"Lil, if I ever have kids, I want 'em to be just like you."

Lily climbed out of Seifer's lap and fiddled with the bow on her dress like she was afraid it had come undone.

"Oh, before I forget," Seifer said, "got something for you, kid."

He withdrew a flat square box from his pocket and held it out for Lily to take. Lily's eyes widened in surprise as she stepped forward to take it. She glanced up at Squall as if asking permission to open it. He nodded his consent, wondering what Seifer had done.

Lily pulled the bow on the outside of the box and opened the lid. A soft gasp escaped her as she lifted a silver bangle bracelet from a bed of tissue paper. It was carved with a lily and vine pattern all the way around. Squall frowned at Seifer and was about to protest the cost when Seifer explained.

"That's from me and Quis," he said. "To say thanks for being in the wedding."

"It's so pretty," Lily murmured. She slipped it on her wrist and held it out to look at it the light. "Thanks."

She threw her arms around Seifer's neck. Something softened in Seifer's face as he hugged Lily back. There it was. His hard-ass archenemy turned friend reduced to a squishy-hearted ball of goo over a kid. Not that Squall had any right to talk. Lily had him wrapped around her little finger.

Fujin popped her head in the door just as Lily let Seifer go. She frowned at the bottle on the table as she stepped inside.

"Drunk?"

"Getting there," Squall said.

"SHARE."

"Help yourself," Squall said. "How the hell did Quistis get you in a dress, anyway?"

"BRIBERY."

"Fujin's buying out half my share in the business," Seifer said. "At a discount."

"We could make it a third of the business as a whole," Squall said with a shrug. "Inside word is that a lot of new businesses are moving to Timber. Might be smart to open an office there."

"AFIRMATIVE."

"That means we'd have to hire three more people," Seifer said with a frown.

"Two. I'm going to give Rinoa's brother a shot," Squall said.

"Shame we can't get Dincht on board," Seifer said.

"Did you really just say that out loud?"

"He's a moron, but I can't deny he's got a gift for electronics."

"He might consider it, if there was a Balamb office, but until then, he's pretty content where he's at," Squall said.

"So let's open a Balamb office. We've got cash to spend."

"Something to think about," Squall agreed. "But, I think you might be a little too drunk to hash out a business plan right now."

"Not drunk enough," Seifer disagreed. "Where the hell is Raijin?"

"PRACTICING."

"Still?" Seifer asked. "His toast is five sentences long. He's using note cards. How much practice does he need?"

"NERVOUS."

Seifer put a hand to his forehead and muttered something under his breath that Squall didn't catch.

"Maybe you should give the toast _,_ Leonhart," Seifer suggested. "I'm very concerned his speech is going to consist mostly of _like_ and _ya know_?"

"Not on your life," Squall said.

"So, marriage is...whateeevverrrr," Lily intoned. "Cheers."

Seifer burst out laughing at Lily's imitation of Squall's bored posture and tone. Squall frowned, if only to hide his own smile. She had him pegged, all right. It was hard to be mad at her when she was so dead on.

"Yeah, that's probably how it would go," Seifer agreed. "Never mind. You're off the hook."

"Like I was ever on it in the first place."

"So, any word from Rinoa?"

"Nothing," Squall said. "Not a word."

* * *

There should have been plenty of time to get from Dollet to Deling City before the wedding began, but as luck would have it, the train collided with a monster on the tracks and was delayed for over two hours while the damage was assessed. Rinoa sat beside Laguna, anxious as she checked her watch every thirty seconds in anticipation.

"Why don't you take a nap?" Laguna suggested. "It'll help pass the time and by the time you wake up, we'll be there."

Rinoa gritted her teeth and wished she knew how to teleport herself to where she needed to be. Some Sorceresses could, but Rinoa had never figured out out how it was done. Not that she'd spent much time even trying, but now she really wished she had. It would make this so much easier and she'd waited long enough as it was.

"Not tired," she said.

"Can I interest you in a tale of adventure and espionage?"

"If it passes the time," Rinoa said.

"All right," Laguna said. "But you have to promise you won't look at your watch. In fact, give it to me."

Rinoa was loathe to give up her only means of keeping tabs on how much time she had left, but she agreed and slipped it off her wrist. Laguna put it in his pocket and launched into a tale about the time he and Kiros and Ward had stumbled upon a cave in Trabia. There was certainly some adventure, but no espionage. Unless she counted spying on and evading Estharian soldiers while camping in the woods. Still, it was an entertaining, if not rambling story, as all Laguna's stories were, and it ended with Laguna knocking himself unconscious with a shovel, as most of Laguna's stories did.

By the time he finished, the train was moving again. She checked her wrist, only to be reminded that Laguna had her watch.

"Time goes faster when you don't have some reminder of how slow it's moving," Laguna said. "Want to hear about the time Ellone and I tried to make Raine dinner and wound up with a flock of chocobos in the bar and accidentally set the kitchen on fire?"

Rinoa, in spite of herself, nodded. She only half-listened, but she was grateful for the distraction. Laguna was so animated in his tale, his eyes shining as his hands mimed the action, she could have watched that alone and be entertained.

"...So there I was, egg in hand and ten angry chocobos chasing me down the street," Laguna said. "And Elle's just screaming at me to run faster. Of course, I got a leg cramp, tripped over my own feet and landed face down in puddle of mud. Managed to hold onto the egg, but the chocobos caught up with me and started to peck the devil out of my head."

Rinoa was engaged enough to laugh at the right places, but her attention was divided. It was making her crazy to not know how close they were or how long they still had to go.

"...So then, I'm hiding in the kitchen because the chocobos are rioting and overturning furniture and all of a sudden, smoke starts to fill the room...we'd forgotten all about the cake!"

By the time Laguna was finished with the story, the outline of Deling City was on the horizon. She looked at it in surprise and then at Laguna's knowing smile and couldn't resist giving the man a hug. Thank Hyne for Laguna. If he hadn't been on the train with her, keeping her entertained, she might have lost her mind.

"Thank you," she said. "For everything."

Laguna's smile was sad. He cuffed her lightly on the chin with a fist before settling back in his seat.

"I just want Squall to be happy," he said. "I can't give him his childhood back, but... I can give him a future full of good memories, with or without me in them."

"Oh, Laguna," Rinoa said. "I promise, you'll be in them. Whether Squall likes it or not. So long as you show up for it, you'll never be unwelcome."

"He's lucky to have you," Laguna said.

"I think he knows he's lucky to have you, too," Rinoa said. "He just doesn't say it."

When the train pulled into the station, Rinoa all but sprinted to the bus, and then into the hotel when the bus arrived in the shopping district. Laguna, leg cramp and all, kept up as best as he could, following her into the lobby and down the hall to the ballroom where the wedding was being held. She heard the music before she got to the door, where she found a very short line of people waiting to make their entrance with Selphie directing traffic like a drill sergeant. Squall was not among them.

Quistis, at the back of the line, looked incredible in her gown. It was an elegant but simple configuration of fitted satin and lace and her hair was pinned and curled and woven through with flowers and a simple veil.

When Quistis saw Rinoa and Laguna, she beamed and stepped out of line to hug them both.

"I was afraid you weren't going to make it," she said.

"Better late than on time," Laguna joked.

"Can we sneak in, or is it too late?"

"There should be some room at the back," Quistis said.

"Perfect," Rinoa said. "We'll go find some seats."

"LAGUNA!" Selphie shouted.

Selphie bounded over and flung her arms around Laguna, nearly knocking him to the ground. A second later, she crashed into Rinoa and nearly squeezed the life out of her.

"I haven't seen you in years," Selphie accused.

"I know, it's been too long," Rinoa agreed. "We really need to catch up."

"I have so much to tell you," Selphie said. "But, right now, I have a wedding to deal with. We'll catch up later, okay?"

"Sure," Rinoa promised. "I'd like that."

Selphie turned her eyes back to Laguna and her whole face lit up. It was the same look Selphie got before she decided to blow something up.

"Oh, hey!" Selphie cried. "Why don't you walk Quistis down the aisle?"

"Oh, I couldn't," Laguna protested. "Leg cramp."

"Well, sure you could!" Selphie said. Her face turned sad. "Cid got sick with the flu, so Quistis doesn't have anyone to give her away. I was gonna have Squall do it, but by the time I found out about Cid, it was too late to ask him, and Squall's kinda drunk anyway. So what do you say?"

Squall was drunk? Not on Rinoa's account, she hoped. She would have much preferred a scenario where he'd gotten smashed because of Seifer and not because he was miserable.

"It's not a bad idea," Quistis said. "And I'd be honored, if you're willing, but no pressure."

"Aww, shucks," Laguna said. "How can I refuse a pretty girl on her wedding day?"

"Yay!" Selphie shouted. "Come on."

She grabbed hold of Laguna's arm and tugged him toward the end of the line and started barking instructions at him. The poor man looked bewildered and bemused and Rinoa hid her laughter behind her hand.

"I'm going to go find my seat," Rinoa said to Quistis. She gave Quistis a quick hug. "You look beautiful, by the way. We'll talk later, okay?"

"Count on it."

Rinoa slipped into the ballroom and glanced around for a seat, but her eyes fell on Squall, standing tall and stoic beside a very pretty Fujin, all made up and wearing a dress. Lily, in a dress that matched Fujin's, held Squall's hand. Neither spotted her, but she didn't want them to. Not yet. If Squall saw her, he would come running, and she didn't want to upstage Seifer and Quistis on their wedding day.

Still, it killed her not to be the stupid, impulsive girl she was at heart. It killed her to have to wait any longer. She wanted to go to him now. To promise she would never leave again.

He must have sensed her. His eyes swept over the crowd with uncharacteristic curiosity, and she was forced to duck behind the person in front of her so he wouldn't spot her. She was saved by the bridal march, but forced to hide again when Squall realized it was his father escorting Quistis down the aisle and not Cid. She saw and felt the flare of wild hope in him and ducked lower, praying that he didn't do something crazy like leave the altar to search for her.

Seifer's face broke into a stupid-happy grin as Quistis made her way down the aisle. Rinoa had never seen him look quite so pleased about anything, ever. Even at his most carefree, there was always an underlying darkness that tainted even his broadest grin. Now, he looked like a man who didn't have a single care in the world.

At the altar, Laguna lifted Quistis' veil, kissed her cheek and gave her hand to Seifer. Seifer didn't even bother to wait. He took Quistis' face in his hands and kissed her with a hot passion that made everyone in the room laugh.

"Perhaps we should wait until the vows are said?" the pastor suggested.

Seifer waved his hand at the man dismissively and continued kissing Quistis like there was no one else in the room but the two of them.

"Mr. Almasy? The vows?"

"Blah, blah, blah, I do," Seifer said.

Selphie let out a shriek of indignation from her place with the bridesmaids. Her face was a picture of rage and Rinoa couldn't help her laughter. Selphie looked like she was about to tear Seifer apart.

"I'm going to kill you!" Selphie shrieked. "That's not how you're supposed to do it!"

Quistis, for all her seriousness burst into laughter. She threw her head back and her hands wrapped around the lapels of Seifer's suit jacket and she gave him a light, indignant shake. Seifer just smirked and took her face in his hands again.

"Well?" he prompted.

"Okay, fine, I do too," she said through giggles. "You win."

"It's about time you let me win something."

"Oh, it'll be the last time, _darling_ ," Quistis teased. "That's a promise."

"We'll see about that," Seifer said as he drew her in for another kiss.

The pastor threw up his hands in exasperation and gestured for Lily to offer the rings. Lily, nudged Seifer with her foot, then tugged his sleeve when he failed to acknowledge her. Seifer paused long enough to take the rings from the pillow. He handed one to Quistis with a grin and then leaned down to give Lily a peck on the cheek.

"This is the weirdest wedding _ever_ ," Lily said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Squall's palm met his forehead with an audible crack and he looked like he didn't know if he should laugh or scold her.

"With this ring," Seifer said to Quistis with a boyish grin, "you are mine for all eternity. Hyne help your soul."

Selphie shrieked again and from the looks of it, was about to hurl her bouquet at Seifer's head. Only Zell's intervention stopped her. Zell clamped a hand over Selphie's mouth and wrapped an arm around her waist, prepared to drag her out if necessary. Xu yanked the bouquet from Selphie's hand and glared daggers at the enraged woman, hissing something that made Selphie's eyes go wide.

"With this ring, I will _never_ let you live this down," Quistis promised. "Not ever."

"Counting on it," Seifer said.

"Oh the hell with it," the pastor said. "You may now kiss the bride... Again."

The kiss that followed was less passionate than the first. Neither Seifer nor Quistis could seem to contain their laughter long enough to go for it. Rinoa doubted either would look back on the event with regret, but she teared up just the same. Weddings always made her cry.

"Mr. and Mrs. Almasy, I now pronounce you husband and wife," the pastor said. "Hyne help you both."

Rather than walk Quistis down the aisle, Seifer scooped her up and carried her. Something about the way Seifer looked at Quistis told Rinoa they might be a little late to the reception.

She stood along with the rest, offering applause as they came nearer, but she took care to stay out of Squall's line of sight. Once the bridal party left the room, she'd find him, but for now, the focus was where it should be: on Quistis and Seifer.

Though she tried to stay hidden in the crowd, Seifer spotted her and grinned, jerked his head toward the altar.

"About time you showed up," he called.

"Fashionably late," Rinoa agreed.

"Go get him. I'm sick of that stupid, hang-dog look on his face!"

When Rinoa looked back up at the altar, Squall's gaze was fixed on her. He stared in disbelief for a second before he leaned down to whisper something in Lily's ear. The girl nodded and grinned up at him, then went to join Zell.

Squall stared for nearly a full minute, as though he couldn't believe she was really there. Rinoa offered him a smile and a shrug.

Squall broke away from the front and raced around the far side of the seating to join her. He didn't even let her say a word before he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with so much passion her breath was stolen from her lungs. Her arms went around his neck, and she kissed him back with everything she had in her.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" he murmured as he pulled away. "You should have called."

"I thought Laguna called you."

"Not a word," he said.

"Oh," she said. "Surprise! I'm here."

He pulled her against him roughly, and he kissed her again, his hands and mouth growing insistent and demanding, though there were still plenty of people around to witness. He didn't even seem to care they were making a spectacle of themselves and that was _exciting_. She wanted everything his kiss and his touch seemed to suggest and she told him so.

"We'll be late," he whispered as his lips brushed over her jaw.

"Don't care," Rinoa said. "Please tell me you have a room upstairs."

"Mm-hmm," he hummed. "We'll have to make it quick."

"When have you ever been quick about it?"

"Never."

"Then I fully expect to miss the toast," she breathed in his ear. "And maybe dinner."

"Possibly the cake," Squall said. "And the send-off."

"I definitely want some cake, though," she said.

"Room service," he said.

Rinoa hooked an arm around his waist and raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"Shut up and take me upstairs, Leonhart."

* * *

In the end, they didn't miss much. Seifer and Quistis were so late to the reception, dinner had to be served before the happy couple even made their appearance. When Squall finally led Rinoa into the banquet hall, Seifer and Quistis were just arriving too, both slightly disheveled and grinning from ear to ear.

Squall couldn't tell if Seifer was still drunk or just really happy, but his grin suggested whatever he'd been doing had been fun. Squall knew the feeling. He struggled not to wear the same dopey grin and was failing at it. Eventually, he didn't even bother to hide it.

Raijin's toast was surprisingly eloquent, if not short, and was followed by champagne and cake. Quistis smashed hers into Seifer's face and ground it in with a triumphant smile and Seifer retaliated by smearing it all over her face when he grabbed hold of her and tried to kiss her. The both wound up covered in frosting, laughing like overgrown children.

Selphie was in meltdown mode over their antics, but Squall thought it was great to see them enjoying themselves. Hyne knew, they deserved it.

Squall wasn't particularly fond of gatherings like this, but he had fun anyway. He danced with Lily and Quistis and Rinoa and even Selphie, who hinted that she was already planning his wedding.

"One thing at a time, Selphie," he said. "Besides, maybe we'll elope."

"I'll kill you dead if you do," Selphie warned. "I'm picturing sprays of forget-me-nots and white roses and lots and lots of balloons, so you better not ruin it for me."

"Heaven forbid," Squall said, and then turned her back over to Irvine, who gave him a knowing and apologetic look as he tipped his hat and collected his wife.

Squall couldn't stop looking at Rinoa. Even as she danced and socialized and caught up with old friends, his eyes followed her through the room, fearful that she might disappear. It was too good to be real, and he would not have been shocked if some other obstacle cropped up to interfere. Guards would burst in and take her away. She might change her mind and go to Timber. He would wake up and find out it had all been a dream.

Lily slid into his lap near the end of the night, sleepy eyed but happy. He put his arms around her as she curled up against him and kicked off her shoes.

"Tired?" he asked.

"No."

But she was. In less than five minutes, she was sound asleep, the flowers in her hair coming undone and her head against his chest.

"Lil? Wake up."

Lily didn't budge, so he sat there with his arms around his daughter, watching the party going on around him. Out on the dance floor, Seifer danced with Rinoa, who talked a mile a minute while Zell showed off his skills with Quistis. Quistis had a good six inches of height on Zell in her heels, and it should have been awkward, but it wasn't. Back when they were kids, Zell always got paired with the tallest girl in class.

When Selphie convinced the DJ to switch to club music, Seifer fled the dance floor and came to find Squall.

"So," Seifer said, taking a seat. "How's it going?"

Squall just smirked. It didn't take a genius to figure out why Squall had been late to the party, and Squall doubted Seifer was going to let that fact slip by unacknowledged. Even though Seifer was late to his own reception.

"Selphie try to slit your throat yet?" Squall asked.

"Twice," Seifer said. "She's too short to reach my neck though, so I'm safe unless she trips me."

Rinoa and Zell were dancing together now; Quistis had retreated to speak with Laguna. Squall absently stroked Lily's hair as he watched Zell and Rinoa doing some dance Squall didn't know and didn't care to.

"You happy now?" Seifer asked. "Or are you still waiting for the other shoe to drop?"

"You know me."

"Well, knock it off, 'cause I got something for you," Seifer said. He produced an envelope and dropped it onto the table in front of Squall. "From me and Quis."

"What's this?" Squall asked.

"Open it and find out, stupid."

Squall tore open the envelope. Inside were a pair of train tickets and a reservation for a newly opened resort hotel at the beach outside Timber. Squall stared at them for a second before looking up at Seifer in confusion.

"Lily agreed to spend the week with Laguna," Seifer said. "Fujin's gonna run both offices and Dincht agreed help out with whatever installs we have going until you're back."

"Are kidding me?"

"Nope. Everyone collectively decided you and Rin need some alone time to get all that pent up sexual energy out of the way before you traumatize Lily for life."

"I don't know what to say."

"Thanks would suffice," Seifer said. "You leave tonight. Better go pack."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. And if you have a tan when you come back, I'm gonna be really disappointed."

* * *

Squall did not get a tan.

They spent the entire week in bed, watching movies and making love and eating their meals from the room service menu. Once or twice, they ventured out to sample the amenities the hotel offered – the indoor pool, the complementary massage, the spa and sauna, but mostly, they enjoyed the freedom of not having to set an alarm clock or worry about anything at all.

Squall checked in with his father and with Lily daily, and both seemed to be having a great time riding scooters around the Presidential Palace and eating junk food and decorating Laguna's office with glitter and Lily's paintings. Squall worried it wouldn't go so well, but from the sound of things they were getting along just fine.

They'd planned to go to the beach their last day there, but when they woke that morning, it was raining.

"Oh, well," Rinoa said, snuggling into Squall's chest. "Can't control the weather."

"What are we going to do now?" Squall asked.

"Breakfast?" she suggested. "Maybe... fool around?"

"Hmm. How about fool around and then breakfast?"

Squall leaned in and kissed her neck, his arms going around her waist. He'd thought after a week of nothing but this, he'd burn out, but it only made him want her more. It hadn't been that way when they were younger, at least, not like this. And he didn't mind that at all.

"I don't know," she said breathlessly. "I'm pretty hungry."

"So am I."

She giggled as his lips moved over her collarbone and he nipped lightly at her shoulder. Squall was pretty hungry for food, but breakfast could wait. He wanted _her_. All of her. Every part.

"Pancakes, orange juice... maybe some sausage?" Rinoa murmured.

"If it's sausage you want..."

"Squall!" she cried and smacked him on the shoulder. "Never in my life have I heard you talk like that. I blame Seifer."

"Would you rather I not talk at all?"

"Well..." she drawled, a spark of mischief in her eyes. "I can think of other things you could do right now besides."

"Such as?"

She leaned in slowly and Squall anticipated a lusty kiss that would lead to other lusty things.

"Pick up the phone and order me some breakfast," she whispered in his ear.

Squall groaned and dropped his face into the pillow as Rinoa laughed at his disappointment. As much as he would have liked for her to say something else, and the idea of _that_ was definitely intriguing, his stomach rumbled at the thought of food. He relented and ordered breakfast, then pinned Rinoa to the bed with a grin.

"There's a chapel downstairs."

"And?" she asked.

"We could get married."

Rinoa's eyes went wide.

"I figured you'd want to wait."

"I've waited long enough," he said. "Too long."

"What will we wear?" she asked.

"We'll go downstairs in our bath robes," he said and pressed a kiss to her throat.

Rinoa giggled and pushed her hands underneath the bathrobe he'd been speaking of and dragged her fingers down his torso to his hips. He groaned in appreciation and pulled her closer.

"Less to take off later."

"Exactly," he said. "So, is that a yes?"

"Selphie would kill us."

"She can plan a party."

Rinoa bit her lip, and looked at him as though she wasn't sure he was serious. He was serious. Very serious. There was nothing he wanted more. After all the years of being apart, and all the things he'd forgotten, he didn't want to bother with formality or waiting or planning. He just wanted to call her his, today, tomorrow, next week and for all the years to come.

"What about rings?" she asked.

"Gift shop."

"Who are you and what have you done with Squall?"

"Say yes," he demanded. "Please say yes."

Her eyes searched his face for a second, and he thought she was about to say no.

"Do you think we'll be happy this time around?" she asked, uncharacteristically serious. Her fingers brushed his hair off his forehead before her hand dropped to his chin to run her fingers over the week-worth of stubble there. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Squall cocked his head at her, not sure where the uncertainty was coming from.

"You were always what I wanted," he said. "That hasn't changed."

Her eyes smiled up at him, full of warmth and love and it was like they'd never spent a single day apart. Squall captured her mouth in a slow languid kiss, his hands tangled in her hair. He wanted to kiss her senseless until she agreed.

No more waiting. No more questioning. No more worrying. No more second guessing. He was done with doubting and wondering what terrible thing the future held in store for him. There was only now and he might as well get started on enjoying the present rather than dwelling on past hurts or imagined futures.

"Say yes, Rinoa."

_~The End~_


	20. Chapter 20

Their story did not end with an elopement, of course. Not that they told anyone they'd gotten married. The only wedding photo that existed didn't look like a wedding photo at all and no one guessed that's what it was. To everyone else, it looked like a silly picture they'd taken on vacation, both grinning from ear to ear in matching bathrobes and bedroom slippers.

Every time Selphie asked, their answer was that they were not ready, to which Selphie responded with squawks of frustration and a detailed list of ideas she had for their blessed event. Every time they visited with Selphie, that list got longer and more elaborate and their excuses weaker and weaker.

But it never happened and neither was particularly interested in making it happen. They were content, if not always mired in married bliss, but they made it work. Disagreements were heated but short lived. The happy moments were worth remembering and the passion had yet to fade from their marriage. If anything, it just got better.

And then came Jasper, or _Jaz_ as Lily and Squall had nicknamed him. Neither particularly liked the name Jasper. That had been Rinoa's choice and she wouldn't hear a word against it.

Lily was overjoyed to have a brother, even one almost 14 years her junior and she doted on him as much as the rest of them. Jaz looked like Laguna, with green eyes and dark hair and a smile full of good humor. Laguna was overjoyed that his genes had manifested in his grandson, though this earned him some good natured ribbing from Kiros and Ward.

Squall was just happy to have a son. In the quieter moments, Squall would sit with him and count impossibly tiny fingers and toes and marvel at the idea that the boy was his. He could spend hours taking in the long limbs encased in baby fat and the boy's big feet and the long, dark lashes framing pale green eyes.

Jaz was a quiet boy, even as an infant. He wasn't fussy, and he only cried when he was hungry or wet. Now that he was a toddler, Rinoa worried that he didn't talk as much as other children his age, but Squall didn't think it was a concern. The kid was just quiet. When he needed something, he made it known, one way or another. Edea reassured Rinoa that Squall had been very much the same, and that eased Rinoa's worries that something was wrong. Like father, like son.

Squall Leonhart had lived through a lot of bad things in his life. Stress, memory loss, emotional breakdowns, losing people he loved, and near death experiences – none of that compared to raising a daughter. On one hand, it was the best thing in the world to see Lily grow and learn and form her own ideas about the world. On the other hand, those first few years of puberty had nearly killed him. He couldn't count the number of times his heart had almost stopped for one reason or another. Thank Hyne Rinoa was there to take care of the bra shopping and all the other things that might have left both Squall and Lily emotionally scarred if he'd been responsible for handling it. As it were, watching Lily grow from a heartbroken little girl into a young woman left enough scars on Squall's heart and it struck him all too often that the girl he'd taken in would never bee that innocent again.

And now Lily was sixteen. Sixteen, and it was too much for Squall's heart to take. Lily was trying to kill him by growing up too fast. They survived childhood and the preteen years and puberty, but Squall wasn't sure if he was going to survive what came next.

He sat on the couch feeling helpless as he stared at the New Year decorations, waiting. Time moved too fast, and too slow at the same time. Two more years. That was all he had left before Lily was an adult and would be off to start her own life. Two years was a long time to wait, but it was painfully short for a man who just wanted to hold on to the life he'd fought so hard to build.

The sound of small footsteps interrupted his misery and he barely had a chance to look up before Jaz crashed into his legs and cried, "UP!"

Squall lifted the boy into his arms, kissed his plump little cheek and plopped him in his lap. In the boy's hand was a New Year decoration...thing. Rinoa had made it from a mixture of cinnamon, glue and ground cloves, and Squall still wasn't sure what it was supposed to be, but to keep the peace, he'd never asked. It smelled nice, though. Which is probably what prompted his Jaz to stick the misshapen brown blob in his mouth and try to take a bite.

"Not a cookie, buddy," Squall said and removed the decoration from the boy's hand. "How about I get you a snack?"

Fat little fingers flexed and Jaz's face scrunched up as he reached for the ornament with a determined little grunt.

"I swear it isn't food, kiddo. And your mommy made it, so you definitely don't want to eat it," Squall said conspiratorially. "Don't tell her I said that."

At the age of two, Jaz had already perfected Squall's poker face. He looked back at Squall like a hardened war veteran who had seen one too many battles. With a frown and another grunt, Jaz reached for the ornament, flexing his pudgy little hand with renewed determination. He was not easily dissuaded from a path once he'd set his mind to it and Squall wasn't sure which parent he'd gotten that from. It was equal parts Squall and Rinoa, as their respective stubbornness when they wanted something was almost legend.

Squall lifted the boy onto his hip and returned the now sticky... _whatever it was_ , back where it belonged, this time out of reach of Jaz's curious hands, and headed for the kitchen.

"Maybe," he said to the boy,."mommy left us some cookies. That is, if she didn't eat them all."

Jaz agreed with a soft smack against Squall's cheek, leaving a warm, sticky blob of something Squall didn't want to think about on his skin.

On the counter was a small plate of snowman shaped cookies sprinkled with colored sugar. Squall broke the head off one and offered it to his son and kept the rest for himself. Jaz shoved the cookie in his mouth with a satisfied grunt and began to chew, spewing crumbs down the front of Squall's shirt.

There was a time when being covered in kid-spit and gooey, half chewed bits of cookie would have sent Squall over the edge. It still bothered him, but these days, it wasn't a fight he could win, no matter how hard he tried. Nor was it a fight worth fighting anymore. For the sake of his psychological well being, he simply pretended it was monster guts. Better to picture monster guts that slobber crawling with germs. Sometimes, it even worked.

There was a knock at the front door and Squall frowned darkly and switched into over-protective dad mode in an instant. He had half a mind to grab his gunblade, just to watch the boy at the door squirm. Lily and Rinoa would both kill him if he did, but the idea of it filed him with a dark glee that neither could take away from him, even if he wasn't allowed to do it.

He opened the door to see Jake, now tall, broad shouldered and a looking a little too cleaned up and handsome for his own good. The boy was dressed in a suit and tie, a corsage in a small florist box in his hands. Squall narrowed his eyes, filled with sudden dislike for the kid that had been Lily's best friend for more than six years.

Jake was a good kid. A nice kid. He'd spent countless hours at the house, collaborating with Lily on sculptures and mixed media paintings and dioramas. They'd studied together at the kitchen table and Squall had seen Jake go from short, slightly pudgy kid to nearly a grown man in just a few short years. The way the two behaved with one another had given Squall a false sense of security about where their relationship was headed. For years, they'd acted like siblings. Now, all of a sudden they weren't, and that scared the hell out of Squall. Especially now that Jake was 6'3", had a drivers license and was taking Lily out on a _date_.

Not a pizza date. Not an afternoon at the museum. An actual date. Squall wanted to rewind time, back to when Lily was nine and he didn't have to worry about this.

"Jake!" Jaz cried and held up a fist in triumph. "JAAAKE!"

Squall winced and shifted Jaz to his other hip as he opened the door wider for Jake to come inside. Jake gave Jaz a high five and a pinch on the nose while Squall stood there in silence, glowering at the boy who was trying to steal Lily away from him.

It was irrational to feel this hostile about it, but Squall couldn't help himself. He knew teenage boys. Squall might not have been a normal teenager in terms of his behavior or interest in the of girls, but he knew exactly what kind of thoughts went through the mind of a sixteen year old boy. He had no doubt, Jake had had those same thoughts about Lily, and it made Squall suddenly want to lock Lily in a closet forever, then dismember the boy for being a teenage boy interested in his daughter.

"Hey, Squall. Lily about ready?" Jake asked as he stepped into the foyer.

Squall narrowed his eyes. "I'd appreciate it if you called me Mr. Leonhart from now on."

Jake was perplexed. He'd been calling Squall by his first name for years, at Squall's request.

"I'm sorry?" Jake asked.

"Squall is for Lily's friends," he explained. "For the boys that want to date her, it's Mr. Leonhart. You're not an exception."

"Oh," Jake was taken aback. "Sure...Mr. Leonhart."

"Have a seat."

Squall sort of relished the look on Jake's face. Like Jake unexpectedly found himself in a lion's den with no hope of escape.

* * *

Upstairs, Rinoa sat facing Lily at the vanity, carefully applying eyeliner and shimmery shadow to Lily's eyelids. Lily fidgeted, toying with the bangle bracelet around her wrist and the hem of her dress and the strap of her heels.

"Lily, quit moving," Rinoa said, not unkindly. "I'm going to mess it up."

"I'm sorry," Lily said. "I don't know why I'm so nervous. It's just Jake."

"Just Jake, huh?" Rinoa asked. She smudged a darker shade into the crease of Lily's eyelid. "Sure that's all?"

Lily blushed and looked at her fingernails, which Rinoa had painted crimson to match her dress.

"I don't know. It's...weird," Lily said.

"What's weird about it?"

"Just... we've been friends forever, and suddenly it's like..."

"Like there's more to it?"

"Yeah."

"That happens sometimes," Rinoa said. She uncapped the mascara wand. "Look up."

Lily turned her eyes toward the ceiling as Rinoa carefully applied mascara to Lily's lashes.

"How do you know when you're in love?" Lily asked.

Rinoa smiled and sat back in her chair. Lily was blushing furiously now and she wouldn't look Rinoa in the eye. In truth, Rinoa had been waiting for this question for a while. Lily might not have seen this coming but Rinoa had. The two might have been friends for years now, but Rinoa had seen the way Jake seemed to orbit around Lily and the way his face lit up when they were together. Lily might have just figured it out, but Rinoa knew, just from the way Jake looked at Lily, he'd been crazy about her for a long, long time.

"Speaking from experience, sometimes it's hard to tell the difference between love and hormones," Rinoa said. "Especially when you're sixteen. But... I would say it's something you just know. You feel it in your bones and your mind and your heart. Like you would do anything for that person. Like you can completely trust that person on all levels, and if there is any doubt at all, then it isn't love yet."

Lily processed that while Rinoa curled Lily's eyelashes.

"Was it love at first sight for you and dad?"

"I couldn't stand him at first, actually," Rinoa admitted, thinking back to the way Squall was when he showed up in Timber. "I thought he was the meanest, coldest guy I had ever met. And he thought I was dangerous, impulsive, maybe even a little crazy."

"Really?"

"I may or may not have called him a meanie. Repeatedly."

Lily smiled and gave a soft laugh. Over the years, Lily had heard Rinoa call Squall a meanie countless times. It had lost its impact, as if it ever really had much of an impact to begin with.

"So what changed?"

"He did," Rinoa said. She brushed a stray lock of Lily's curled hair back over her shoulder.

"Was there like, a moment when you just knew? For sure?"

She could have said it was the moment when he jumped out into space, or when he held her on the Ragnarok or even when he busted her out of the sealing chamber, but it wasn't. It had been so much more simple than that. A quiet moment amidst the chaos.

She'd broken into his room at Garden while they were planning the final leg of their journey, after he'd quietly pledged to be her Knight and before they'd initiated the attack on the Lunatic Pandora. She'd been a part of the planning session, but after a while, it had all sounded like a different language to her. She felt left out and confused by the things they were talking about, and at that point, all the cadets and SeeDs aboard knew who and what she was and it made her uncomfortable to walk the halls by herself. So, she'd gone to the only place she knew where she felt safe: Squall's room.

She curled up with a book and eventually fell asleep in his bed. When he woke her, it was late and he looked exhausted.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep," she said.

He didn't look angry or hostile or even cold, just very, very tired. He kicked off his boots and then stripped off his jacket and gloves and tossed the jacket over a chair, the gloves on the desk. With a weary sigh, he dropped onto the bed beside her, his back against the wall and closed his eyes.

She had never seen him voluntarily remove the jacket before. She had seen him sleep in the damn thing, but it struck her as significant. Like taking it off was his way of saying he was comfortable without actually saying it out loud.

He'd taken hold of her hand and inspected the lines in her palm, tracing them with a fingertip, like he was about to tell her her future. He didn't say a word as he compared the size of her hand to his, laid their thumbs side by side for comparison and studied the shape of her fingers. It had been such a strange thing for him to do, not only to touch her of his own free will without it involving danger or heightened emotions, but to give so much attention to something Rinoa barely thought about.

More than that, it was... intimate. All he had done was look at her hand, but it felt like something bigger and more important than a comparison of lines and flesh and bones. So when he finally looked up at her, she saw not the deadly mercenary, not the SeeD commander, but an innocent and scared seventeen year old boy. For all his battle prowess and his toughened exterior, underneath he was really just a kid who was scared to death and hopelessly in love with her.

Rinoa already knew this, but to see it so raw and unguarded in his face did something to her. Though she most certainly had a crush on him, and she knew his feelings for her ran deeper than she'd ever imagined, it hadn't really hit her that she didn't just love him, she was _in_ love with him. Until then, she hadn't known there was a difference.

"That's all?" Lily asked. "You guys were just sitting there?"

"Grand gestures are nice, and believe me, your dad did some crazy things to bail me out of trouble, and it was _very_ romantic and sweet," Rinoa said, "but the little things matter too. Sometimes, they wind up being the things you remember most."

Lily sighed and fiddled with the jeweled strap of her dress and chewed on her lip.

"Don't do that," Rinoa said. "You're going to smudge your lipstick."

"Is it stupid that I'm scared?" Lily asked. "It's just _Jake_. I mean, we have burping contests and he's seen me with my hair going every which way and paint all over my face. He's seen me at my worst."

Rinoa grinned. "Well, if he's still around after all that, he really likes you."

"I just don't want to mess it up. You know, being friends."

"Enjoying one another's company is a good start," Rinoa said. "The important thing to remember, Lily, is that the foundation of a good relationship is respect. A boy who loves you also respects you. Don't accept anything less."

Lily looked down at her hands again. Rinoa knew Lily would never have a problem speaking her mind or going along with something she didn't want to do, and she wasn't worried that Lily would be pressured into anything before she was ready. Squall worried endlessly about it, but Rinoa knew Lily would sooner knock Jake on his backside than let him push her into something she didn't want to do. Jake was a nice, respectful boy and Elise had done a good job making sure he stayed that way.

The worry in Lily's face turned to something darker and sadder. It was a look Rinoa hadn't seen in a while, and she sat back on her heels to peer at Lily with concern.

"I told him," Lily said. "About that night...when I had to, you know, kill that guy."

That was something Lily never talked about. It wasn't even mentioned or alluded to, ever. Not even back when Lily woke screaming from nightmares or didn't want to be left alone or let Squall out of her sight for longer than a few minutes.

"I only ever talked about it with dad," Lily said. "After it happened. But it's been on my mind a lot lately and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I don't know why. It's not like something reminded me of it or anything."

After all these years, Lily still had scars from that horrible night, scars that hadn't quite healed, and it broke Rinoa's heart to know she still thought about it sometimes.

"Anyway, we were working on our literature project and I just suddenly felt like I had to tell him," Lily said in a small voice. "Like he needed to know. I thought he was going to be mad or hate me or be afraid of me, but...he hugged me and said I was brave."

Lily toyed with her shoe again, tugging at the strap like it was bothering her.

"I didn't feel brave," Lily said. "But, hearing him say it... and having him accept it, just like that. It kind of changed everything. Like, he just looked at me like he was proud of me or something."

"Did it make you feel better?" Rinoa asked. "Telling him about it?"

"I felt like I'd been keeping this huge secret from him, like by not saying anything about it, I was lying or betraying him," Lily said. "Sounds kind of stupid, but that's how I felt. Now that he knows, I'm not as scared."

Lily shifted and resumed fiddling with the strap of her shoe until Rinoa lifted her hands away and put them in her lap.

"Um, can we not tell dad we talked about this? He'll freak out and ban Jake from the house or something," Lily said.

Squall was already freaking out. He hadn't said anything, but Rinoa could sense his unease when Jake's name or the word _date_ came up. It was even worse when the two were used in the same sentence.

"Not a word," Rinoa promised. "But, if there's ever anything you want to talk about, about boys, or love or even sex, don't ever feel like you can' t talk to me about it. I'm not going to judge or lecture, okay? And I'd rather you come to me than try to figure it out on your own or listen to some bad advice from a classmate."

Lily groaned and put her hands over her face, blushing furiously.

"I'm not ready to have that conversation," Lily said. "Not even close."

"Good," Rinoa said. "But, whenever you are ready, or if you have questions, I'm here."

"Thanks. I promise I will," Lily said. A mischievous smile lit up her face as she dropped her hands. "Can you imagine how dad would react if I started asking him about that? He'd have a seizure."

Rinoa laughed and sat back, shaking her head.

"If you value Jake's life, you will do no such thing. The less your father knows about that, the better."

From downstairs came the sound of the doorbell. Lily's grin fell away and she glanced at the clock. She looked scared to death all of a sudden.

"Still nervous?"

"No. Jake's downstairs. Alone. With _dad_."

"Poor kid," Rinoa said, trying to hide her smile. "Unfortunately for him, I need to finish your hair."

Rinoa didn't really need to do much to Lily's hair besides add the beaded pins she'd gotten to match the dress. She wanted to delay because she did not want Squall to miss out on playing the glowering, angry and overprotective father. True, it was mean, but he would brood about it until it was out of his system. Jake could handle a few minutes of discomfort for the sake of Squall's mental health.

Lily sat impatient and nervous while Rinoa added the finishing touches. When she was done, Rinoa opened her jewelry box and retrieved a pair of diamond earrings she hadn't personally worn in a long, long time. Squall had the matching necklace reset into other pieces, but Rinoa had held on to the earrings for sentimental reasons. She held them up to the light, watching the way they sparkled for a second before offering them to Lily.

"Woah," Lily said. "Are those real?"

"Very," Rinoa said. "And they're yours now. If you want them."

Lily blinked at them with wide eyed disbelief.

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious," Rinoa assured her. "Put them on. See how they look."

Lily put the earrings on and turned her head from side to side before turning back to Rinoa to offer a hesitant smile.

"You like?"

Instead of answering, Lily threw her arms around Rinoa's neck and hugged her tight. Rinoa embraced the girl back, feeling a pang of love and loss at the thought of how quickly Lily was growing up. In just a couple short years, she was off to the Estharian Institute of Art to continue her studies and who knew what came after that?

"We should probably go rescue Jake," Rinoa said. "Before Squall gets out the gunblade."

* * *

Squall held Jake fixed to his seat with a hard, cold stare that made the boy squirm with discomfort. He said nothing at all, he just stared and the longer he stared, the more uncomfortable the boy became. Jaz crawled toward the bookshelf, no doubt to liberate one of Rinoa's ugly ornaments, and Squall scooped him up before he could do any damage.

"What are your plans for the evening?" Squall finally asked.

"W-we're going to dinner, and then, um, the dance at school," Jake said.

"Will there be drinking?" Squall asked.

"Well, uh, probably," Jake said. "Someone, you know, always spikes the punch bowl."

"The correct answer was no," Squall said. "There will be no drinking."

"No, of course not," Jake said. "I didn't mean us, I just thought you meant, like other people."

"If Lily comes home with even a hint of alcohol on her breath, I have a gunblade and a very impressive kill record," Squall said. "I also know plenty of ways to make sure your body will never be found."

Jake's eyes widened and he looked as though he didn't know if he should laugh or make a break for the door. It took everything Squall had not to grin at the kid. This was _fun_.

"No alcohol," Jake said. "I swear."

"Good," Squall said.

He resumed staring. Jake tugged at his tie and Squall saw the faintest hint of perspiration on his brow.

In Squall's lap, Jaz squirmed and wrapped his fingers around Squall's watch. He gave it a tug and grunted, his sticky fingers smudging the face of it. Squall tried not to grimace and returned his attention to the teenage boy he was currently tormenting.

"What time does this dance end?" Squall asked.

"Around eleven," Jake said.

"I expect Lily home no later than 11:30," Squall said. "Not a minute later."

"Yes sir, 11:30. Not a problem."

"And if I find out you laid a hand on her, there's a hole in the backyard with your name on it. Is that understood?"

"Sq – Mr. Leonhart, I promise I'll take good care of her," Jake said. "She's still my best friend, you know. I'd never let anything happen to her. Or do anything... she didn't... want me... to do."

Squall bristled and narrowed his eyes.

"Are you implying something, Jake?"

"What? No!"

"Dad!" Lily cried from the stairs. "Leave him alone. Jake, he's not serious. Don't listen to any of that."

Jake's eyes shifted toward Lily and widened as he got to his feet.

"Wow..." he murmured. " _Wow_."

Squall's heart stopped for a second as he took Lily in, realizing that his girl looked so grown up. The red dress hugged curves that Squall had pretended weren't there because he liked to imagine she was still a kid. The instinct to cover her up hit him hard and he searched the living room to drape over her because of the way Jake was gaping at her and the dopey, love-struck look on the boy's face.

Lily came the rest of the way down the stairs, Rinoa trailing behind her. Rinoa gave Squall a knowing look and a frown.

"You look... so beautiful, Lil," Jake said.

The boy couldn't take his eyes off her, prompting Squall to mutter, "Just remember that gunblade, kid."

"Squall," Rinoa scolded. "Knock it off."

"LIL," Jaz grunted and smacked Squall in the ear. Then he pointed at Lily's dress and cried, "RED."

Squall didn't need a reminder that Lily was wearing red. He hated that idea from the beginning, but Rinoa assured him it was a holiday color and not Lily's attempt to dress like a strumpet. Squall didn't care what the reason was. Red was a color men were drawn to. It was a color that screamed LOOK AT ME! And Squall didn't want Lily to receive that kind of attention from anyone, ever.

Rinoa made the happy couple take photos by the holiday decorations, while Squall glowered over her shoulder at Jake. The result was a strained, slightly scared smile on the boy's face.

"LIL," Jaz demanded again.

Lily came to Squall's side and gave the boy a kiss on the cheek and a gentle pat on the head. Jaz squealed in delight and bounced on Squall's hip, reaching for his sister. Jaz adored Lily. She adored him back.

"Got your pepper spray, Lil?" Squall asked.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Dad!"

"Do you?"

"Yes. But I won't need to use it because Jake knows I'd punch him in the face if he did anything stupid, okay?" Lily said.

"11:30, Lil," Squall said. "No later."

"Yeah, yeah," she said and went up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Stop worrying."

"We should get going," Jake said. "Dinner reservation is in twenty minutes."

Squall gave her a tight hug, and he couldn't help the feeling that he was losing her. He knew the day would come when she was all grown up and would want to do her own thing, be her own person, but it felt like it was too soon. It was hard to let her go.

"You call me if you need anything," Squall said. "Anything at all. I'll be there."

"You always are," Lily said with a small smile.

Watching her go was painful. He stood at the window in the foyer, watching the car pull away and it felt like everything would be different from now on. Lily was saying goodbye to childhood and soon, maybe she wouldn't need him so much anymore.

Rinoa's hand caressed his back when he continued to stand there.

"She'll be okay, Squall," Rinoa said.

"I feel like I'm losing her."

"You're not," Rinoa said.

"I think I finally understand how your father felt," Squall said. "Why he hated me."

Rinoa laughed and took him by the arm. "Jake is a good kid, and whether you like it or not, he loves Lily."

"Does she love him back?"

"I think so," Rinoa said. "Besides, Elise would kill him if he ever did anything to hurt her. You know that."

"She'd have to stand in line."

Rinoa tugged him into the living room and took Jaz from him. Jaz smiled brilliantly at his mother and patted her cheeks happily.

"Ma," he cooed.

"Hey Jazzy," she said affectionately. She wiped his mouth with the hem of her shirt. "What has been daddy letting you eat?"

"Your ornaments," Squall said. "Apparently they're edible."

"Which one did he eat?" Rinoa asked with concern.

"I don't know, the lumpy brown thing."

"The chocobo?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Well, there's a moomba and an angel and a gunblade too."

"How can you tell the difference?" Squall asked without thinking. "They all look like lumpy brown things to me."

"Squall!"

Her indignation effectively killed his worries about Lily and he grinned down at his wife, knowing how much she hated to be teased about her failed attempts to arts and crafts. He loved that she knew she was bad at it and kept trying anyway.

"Jazzy, tell your daddy he's a great big meanie," Rinoa said. "A mean, mean, meanie."

"Mean," Jaz agreed. Then he grunted and shoved a fist full of Rinoa's hair into his mouth.

"Way to turn him against me," Squall complained. "And you say I'm mean."

Rinoa grinned and shifted the boy to her other hip. She took a step forward and her grin became a little more mischievous. He recognized that look. Suggestive. Sexy. He was suddenly warm all over.

"Why don't we put Jaz down for a while and take advantage of some... alone time," she said. "We can make out on the couch like teenagers."

Squall frowned. As if he needed a reminder that Lily was in a car with a boy.

"I probably wouldn't have done that when I was a teenager," Squall said.

"Use your imagination," she said. "I'm going to go put the Jazzster to bed and when I come back, I fully expect a glass of wine on the coffee table and that frown gone from your face."

"Yes ma'am," he said.

He opened a bottle of wine in the kitchen and returned to the living room with a glass for each of them, then went to the window to stare out at the night. He hoped Lily was having a good time, even if he hated the idea of her growing up. All he'd ever really wanted for her was to have the kind of life he and Ellone had never had. He'd accomplished that, for the most part. They'd stumbled and had a few missteps, they'd lived through some bad times and hadn't been on the same page for a while, but mostly, they'd been happy. Lily was talented and smart and beautiful, and Squall had done everything he could to foster her gifts over the years and he felt good about that.

"You have to let her grow up, Squall," Rinoa said quietly behind him. "She's not leaving you. Not forever, anyway."

Squall turned around and wondered how Rinoa knew that Lily leaving him was his biggest concern about this whole growing up thing. Then, he remembered she knew him inside and out and she would know exactly what bothered him most.

Suddenly, Squall felt lucky. Really, really lucky. Lucky to have the family he'd never dared to dream about. Lucky to love and be loved in return, and to have a wife that knew what he really wanted, even before he knew it himself. Lucky to be so far removed from his lonely, broken childhood self that he could no longer identify with the boy he'd been. And like always, he didn't have to say a word to Rinoa for her to know it.

Life wasn't perfect, but it was damn close. As close as he'd ever been, and for a man dead set on perfection, he had to admit... almost perfect was good enough.

* * *

~the end (for real this time)~


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Chapter!
> 
> This is not technically part of the story, but derived from a review on ffn about Squall and Lily's visit to the kid themed pizza restaurant and what *could have* happened. This was never posted anywhere but Tumblr, so I thought it would be fun to include it here.

 

 

When the pizza arrived, Squall went to find Lily and Jake. They were no longer in the arcade but he stopped and surveyed the room just to be sure.

Everywhere, kids squealed with dismay or delight and bounced from one place to another. If someone could figure out how to bottle the energy level in that room, Squall imagined one might be able to power all the street lights in Deling City. Squall couldn’t remember having that much energy as a kid himself, but as an adult, he found it exhausting just watching them. It was like having 20 Dinchts in the same room at the height of Zell’s spastic, adolescent, pre-anger management phase.

  
As he turned away from the main room to investigate the dreaded germ-fest that was the ball pit, a huge moogle stepped in front of him and waved silently but enthusiastically. Squall side stepped it but the moogle blocked him and wagged a finger as if to scold him. It rocked back and forth at the hips menacingly.

  
“What?” he demanded.

  
The moogle made jazz hands and started to dance.

  
“I don’t have time for this. Move.”

  
Squall stepped away from it, only to be confronted by a second giant moogle. It grabbed his hand and attempted to spin him. Squall gave the moogle a shove.

  
“Knock it off.”

  
The first moogle put its hands on its hips and mimed a belly laugh as the second one dropped its hands to his shoulders and pretended to massage him. Instinct made Squall throw an elbow back and into the one standing behind him. It proved ineffective. His elbow drove into the soft, plush padding of the costume but did not deter the determined idiot in the least.

  
Moogle number one wagged its finger  again and then lunged. The second looped its arms under his to restrain him.

Squall started to panic. What the hell was this? It was bad enough that he had to endure two rounds of creepy robot moogles on stage and the horrible music that accompanied them. Now he was being molested by a pair of them for no good reason.

  
Logically, Squall knew these were not real moogles. He knew they were people in dumb costumes, probably college kids paid to entertain customers and their kids, but he was getting seriously annoyed by how aggressive they were.

  
“Let me go,” he warned.

  
The first moogle grabbed hold of his ribcage and squeezed, attempting to tickle him. Squall did not like being touched by strangers under normal circumstances, but this was a whole other level of dislike colored by both paranoia and distaste for the obvious, blatant infringement on his personal space. Squall kicked out at it, hard enough to send it sprawling onto the carpet. The second didn’t let him go, so he grabbed hold of whatever he could and gave it a hard yank.

  
It turned out to be the head of the costume.

  
“Hey give that back,” a pimple faced twenty-something demanded as Squall spun on him. “You’re not supposed to remove the costume head!”

  
“You’re probably not supposed to molest customers,” Squall said flatly. “I told you to back off. I suggest you do it or your head isn’t the only thing you’ll lose.”

  
The kid held up his hands then made a bid for the giant moogle head in Squall’s hands. Squall didn’t think before he reacted. He swung the moogle head with as much force as he could muster. It hit the boy upside the head with a hollow thunk.

  
“Dude!” the boy cried. “What did you do that for?”

  
Squall didn’t answer, he just hit the kid again. Repeatedly.

  
Someone tackled him from behind, sending him sprawling face down on the carpet. He shot to his feet and found himself surrounded by no less than eight moogles. He brandished the stolen moogle head like a weapon.

  
“I’m just looking for my kid,” he said. “Back. Off.”

  
In unison, the moogles advanced on him. He swung the head hard and it hit one of the demonic, unnaturally large moogles upside its own head, sending the person inside off course and directly into a second moogle. Suddenly, the scene became an all out brawl. Squall swung the moogle head indiscriminately, whacking one and then another until he was tackled again. He hit the ground and something heavy landed on top of him, knocking the wind from his lungs.

  
“I got him!” came a triumphant cry from above.

  
“Get off me,” Squall growled, but his face was forced down into the carpet.

  
He struggled as his hands were wrenched behind his back and fastened with something thin and tight. If Squall were to guess, he was being handcuffed.

  
“Let me up,” he demanded.

  
“Not until you calm down, sir,” a firm voice said.

  
Squall looked up at a tubby security guard with disdain.

  
“Get those things away from me.”

  
“They’re part of the ambiance.”

  
“I don’t care. Get them away from me.”

  
Just then, Lily wandered into his line of sight and Squall let out a breath of relief, then a groan of irritation.

  
“Did you just get your butt kicked by a bunch of fake moogles?” Lily asked.

  
There was no point in lying.

  
“I was outnumbered.”

  
Lily rolled her eyes and made a sound of exasperation.

  
“Can’t take you anywhere, can I?”


End file.
